


The Lost Special

by cassiopeia221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fix-It, M/M, S4 didn't happen, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 15:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18607504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiopeia221B/pseuds/cassiopeia221B
Summary: Sherlock fell into a coma after Mary shot him and spent several days dreaming of a life he thought was real. Once he awakes and learns the truth, he has to start getting used to the reality...





	The Lost Special

**BLACK SCREEN**

A familiar voice. Strained. Sorrowful.

JOHN

Sherlock.

In the blackness, we hear a heartbeat.

JOHN

Sherlock, wake up...

Another heartbeat. John's voice, echoing now as we-

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B SHERLOCK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT**

Close on Sherlock's eyes snapping open.

Wider: Sherlock, bolts upright in his bed, sweating, breathing hard. It takes him a moment to perceive.

Instinctively, he looks around the room, expecting to find John. Much to his confusion... he's alone.

On Sherlock's face again, frowning. Was it just a dream? He closes his eyes again, tries to calm himself, but then-

JOHN

(off-screen)  
Sherlock.

At this, Sherlock turns to look at the door. John's voice, coming from behind.

SHERLOCK

John?

Immediately, he leaps from his bed, bursting through the door into-

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT**

The kitchen.

Empty. Eerily dark. At once, we can hear beeping, as if a heartbeat monitor. It continues throughout this scene.

On Sherlock: anxious; bewildered. Cautiously, he steps forward and heads to the sitting room, trying to ignore the bizarre noise. Then, comes to a halt as if something caught his eye. Slowly, he turns his head to the right, his eyes going to-

-the painting on the wall. A glowing skull. Dazzling blue light.

Sherlock stares at the painting, puzzled. He starts to walk toward it, but stops short at the sudden burst of pain in his body. Wincing, he presses his hand to his chest, only to realise the pain is coming from his gunshot wound, now only a scar but hurting, as if fresh. As he does, John's voice echoes through the room again.

Distressed. Pleading.

JOHN

(off-screen)

Sherlock. Please...

Sherlock, looking around the room, searching for the source of the voice. Something's wrong, terribly wrong. He's beginning to panic.

SHERLOCK

John? John!

JOHN

(off-screen)

Wake up.

SHERLOCK

(raising his voice)

I am awake!

At once, lights in the room begin to flicker. Heart beat monitor - still beeping, louder now.

On Sherlock's face: he swallows, perplexed, horrified. Then suddenly - he feels it.

His eyes fly wide in terror as he glances down at his shirt-

-ripped through. Impossibly, an open bullet wound in his chest, blood seeping through his fingers.

On Sherlock's face again, pale, mouth open in a silent gasp of pain and shock. Close on, as he shuts his eyes-

CUT TO:

**INT. MAGNUSSEN'S SUITE - NIGHT**

FLASHBACK: The scene from HIS LAST VOW-

Sherlock: petrified, looking down at the bloodstain on his chest. He blinks, looks up at-

-Mary, gun leveled. Fierce. Cold. Remorseless.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT**

Close on Sherlock opening his eyes again.

Wider: He clutches his wound, tries to take a step but staggers, starts to fall on his knees.

At once, he falls backwards, slams down on the floor, groaning in pain. Blood pouring out of the wound, tears streaming down his face. With an effort, he opens his mouth, as if trying to speak, but his voice cracks. Too weak.

Defeated, Sherlock lies on the floor, blinking slowly. Feels like eternity.

John's voice, calling from somewhere in the distance, repeating Sherlock's name, over and over.

JOHN

(off-screen)

Sherlock... For me. Please, wake up, for me.

Sherlock - At this, finally, he manages to rasp out a single word:

SHERLOCK

...John...

A beat.

Crossfade -

-From above, slowly zooming in on Sherlock's body on the floor. He closes his eyes, as if for the last time, but in reality... It's only the beginning.

Zooming faster on Sherlock's closed eyes. A white flash of light fills the screen-

**INT. HOSPITAL WARD -NIGHT**

Again, close on Sherlock's eyes fluttering open, except this time, he's lying in a hospital bed. Too numb to move.

He blinks, trying to figure out what happened, where he is. In an instant, a figure bends over him, somewhat blurred, startling him.

We can hear this person talking, but Sherlock's still too disoriented to listen.

A moment later, finally, he recognises the person's voice. A tender, soothing voice, trying to calm him down.

JOHN

Sherlock... Sherlock, can you hear me? Look at me, it's okay now, it's me, just me - John. You're safe here.

Sherlock freezes, just stares at him, blinking. Slowly, he begins to recognise the face too. A gasp of disbelief escapes his throat.

Because there on his left, sitting by his bedside -

\- John Watson, on the verge of tears, but smiling. Beyond relieved. His lips wobble slightly as he speaks.

JOHN

(softly)

Hey.

Sherlock gulps, trembling in shock.

Somehow, with an incredible effort, he manages to mumble a few words.

SHERLOCK

John. Where am I?

John leans closer, reaches to stroke Sherlock's arm.

JOHN

Shhh, don't exert yourself. You're in a hospital. You were in a coma for a short time but it's okay now, you're back.

Sherlock frowns, bewildered, can't compute.

SHERLOCK

A coma?

JOHN

(nods)

You don't remember much, do you?

Sherlock shakes his head. His frown deepens, as if he's trying to recall the lost memories but to no avail.

JOHN (CONT'D)

No, don't worry, that's alright. You've pulled through, that's all that matters right now.

SHERLOCK

Pulled through what? What happened to me?

John - suddenly, he breaks the eye contact, hesitating.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

John? What happened? John.

On John. Still hesitating. It takes him a few seconds of struggling to compose himself and reply. Finally, he looks back at Sherlock. Takes a deep breath, as if to brace himself. Clearly, it pains him, talking about this.

JOHN

Mary. She... shot you.

Silence. A moment of utter shock. Sherlock - his mouth falls open.

SHERLOCK

Mary... No. No, that's not possible. She couldn't have... She's dead.

John - frowns, just staring at Sherlock for a moment, worried.

JOHN

Dead?

SHERLOCK

She... She died. At the London Aquarium.

JOHN

(confused)

No, no, she didn't Sherlock. What are you talking about?

SHERLOCK

What are  _you_ talking about? You were there. She died in your arms.

On John. A sharp intake of breath. To his horror, he begins to comprehend. Sherlock isn't simply disoriented, he's delirious.

Quickly, he tries to pacify Sherlock, talking to him, calm, sensitive, in spite of Sherlock panicking.

JOHN

Alright. Sherlock, you have to listen to me-

SHERLOCK

You're making no sense, John.

JOHN

I know. I know you're in shock right now, but you have to listen. Please. It's important.

On Sherlock - staring anxiously at him.

JOHN (CONT'D)

You had a case. Magnussen, remember? We broke into his office to find the letters you had been hired to retrieve. He wasn't supposed to be there that night but... the things took a wrong turn. We got separated and then... I don't know what exactly had happened, when I found you in his flat it was already too late. Mary had disappeared and you... ever since she shot you you were in a coma, Sherlock. You haven't even left the hospital.

Sherlock: He blinks at John, failing to comprehend. Brain freezing. He doesn't understand a single thing anymore.

SHERLOCK

(eyes wide, breathing quickening)

But... That doesn't make any sense. Those things... happened two years ago.

JOHN

Two years ago? No. No, Sherlock...

There's a few seconds of silence. Sherlock - staring at John with bated breath, beyond anxious.

On John, it pains him, seeing Sherlock in such a state.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(his voice cracks)

...It's been just a few days.

Sherlock: opens his mouth but his voice falters. He swallows, gazing at John, intently, as if begging for those words to be taken back-

-but John says no more. Can't bring himself to speak.

On Sherlock's face again: Raw shock. Eyes glassy, lips quivering. The most devastating, earth-shattering realisation...

CUT TO:

**OPENING TITLES**

**INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - NIGHT**

Later that night.

An empty hospital corridor. Waiting area. John Watson is sitting on one of the chairs outside Sherlock's private ward. He's staring at the wall in front of him, hands clasped, resting on his lap. A single lamp is buzzing above him.

Close on his face: Brooding, tired. Weary eyes suggests that he hasn't slept much lately. He's been through a lot.

Now close on his hands, revealing no wedding ring. He's fiddling with his fingers, trying to keep himself occupied.

On John's face again. Holding on, we hear a creak - the door to Sherlock's room opens.

Sherlock's doctor - Dr. Mason - steps out. A bit younger than John, raven hair, lovely. As she notices John, she flashes a half-smile.

John, immediately springs up from the chair, approaches her.

JOHN

(sotto)

May I see him?

Her smiles fades. Glances at the door, then back at John.

DR. MASON

(sotto)

It's late, Dr. Watson. You better wait until tomorrow.

JOHN

But I-

DR. MASON

Dr. Watson... I know you're worried, but there's only so much you can do right now. Your friend's tired, he needs to rest.

(A beat)

And so do you.

JOHN

(shakes his head)

I won't rest until I make sure he's okay. He-

John sighs, rubs a hand down his face. His voice is hoarse, sounds terribly guilty, as if reproaching himself.

JOHN (CONT'D)

He's in this state because of me. I shouldn't have told him anything.

DR. MASON

You know you had no choice. Lying to him wouldn't make it any easier, sooner or later he'd learn the truth anyway.

JOHN

But he's...

(gestures at the door)

He's raving, he's completely delirious.

DR. MASON

Which isn't your fault. Look, Dr. Watson... We have no idea what exactly happened just yet but I suspect that Sherlock must have experienced rather lucid nightmares while he was comatose. Hence the ravings.

JOHN

Nightmares?

DR. MASON

It's not at all uncommon that patients in a coma dream. These dreams, however, tend to be strange and unpleasant and the worst of all - terrifyingly realistic.

JOHN

(a moment of realisation)

Nightmares. My God, why didn't I think of that.

DR. MASON

I am afraid there's more to it...

She hesitates. It's a delicate topic.

JOHN

What else?

DR. MASON

(sighs)

He had been using, Dr. Watson. A lot. Which must have made his dreams much more intense. Judging from his behaviour, Sherlock cannot seem to be able to distinguish between the reality and his imagination. At least not yet.

On John: Distraught.

JOHN

But... He's going to be okay, right?

DR. MASON

You have to be patient. Physically-wise, he's recovering quite fast but... healing such mental wounds will take much longer. I am sure he'll eventually come back to himself, but it might take a while. I take it you understand.

John gazes at her for a moment, upset, heart breaking for Sherlock. Takes a moment to process the information, then finally gives a small nod.

Dr. Mason smiles empathetically.

DR. MASON (CONT'D)

Now go home. Get some sleep.

She turns around, starts to walk away.

And she's gone.

On John, contemplating her words. Throws a glance at the door, then down the hall, but doesn't move. He cannot leave.

Panning out, as John turns to sit down on a chair again. And there he waits.

FADE IN:

**EXT. HOSPITAL -MORNING**

Outside the hospital.

CUT TO:

**INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - MORNING**

John: walking toward Sherlock's ward, down the hallway, now full of people - nurses, doctors, patients. Looks even more tired than before. He has a cup of coffee in his right hand, and in his left, slightly trembling one - a phone, holding it next to his ear. Talking to someone.

JOHN

Yes, still in the hospital.

(listens)

I know, Mrs. Hudson, I should have let you know, I am sorry. I-

(listens)

No, please don't cry, it's going to be okay, I promise.

This time there's a longer pause.

Closer on John as he reaches the door, comes to a halt. He's still listening, his face somewhat saddens, his voice drops.

JOHN (CONT'D)

Of course. Of course I'll tell him.

A beat. With a sigh, John pockets his phone. Looks at the door in front of him.

Seems to be nervous, almost hesitating to enter. He takes a long sip of his coffee, then tosses the empty cup into a bin.

One more deep breath, then he pushes the door open.

**INT. HOSPITAL WARD - MORNING**

On Sherlock, pale and weak, lying still in the bed, as if sleeping. Heart rate monitor beeping.

On John, standing in the doorway, wavering, his face sorrowful. Carefully, he closes the door behind him, just stands there, watching Sherlock.

A moment later - Sherlock opens his eyes, turns to face John, blinks.

John: a weak attempt to smile.

Sherlock gazes at him for a while but then turns to stare at the ceiling instead. There's something sad behind his eyes.

John's smile turns upside down, his left fist clenches again. This is going to be difficult.

He heads towards Sherlock's bed, his steps unsure, when suddenly there is a phone ring. Fumbling, John reaches for his phone.

He cancels the call, quickly pockets the phone again.

There doesn't seem to be any reaction coming from Sherlock. John manages a wry smile but it fades almost instantly.

JOHN

(pats his pocket)

Lestrade.

(A beat)

He's called at least twenty times. Scotland Yard must be lost without you.

John waits, but Sherlock ignores him. Giving a small sigh, he takes another step forward, pulls up a chair, sits down next to Sherlock's bed. He looks worried, almost anxious, not knowing what to expect from Sherlock.

A few seconds of silence pass before John pipes up again.

JOHN

Mrs. Hudson called too.

No reaction.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(forces another smile)

She can't wait to have you back home.

Silence. It almost looks like Sherlock won't utter a single word. But then-

SHERLOCK

Is Rosie with her?

Another beat.

JOHN

Who?

SHERLOCK

Rosie. Your daughter.

On John: Chilled to the bone. He's been rendered speechless. Can't think of a single thing to say. Despite their previous conversation, Sherlock still hasn't fully comprehended.

JOHN

Sherlock, I-I don't have a daughter.

On Sherlock: Gulps, shuts his eye tight as if trying not to cry.

SHERLOCK

Of course you do. She has your eyes. Just learnt her first word.

John, tears starting in his eyes. It hurts too much, he finds it difficult to talk.

JOHN

Sherlock. That... That couldn't have happened because there... is no child. Never have been. Mary has lied. Whatever you think you saw, was just a product of your dreams.

SHERLOCK

Dreams.

JOHN

Yes.

Sherlock, just shakes his head, as if refusing to accept it.

SHERLOCK

Are you trying to convince me that Rosie is... not real? That I dreamt her up, that I, that I imagined her, just like I imagined Mary's death?

Sherlock sniffs. Finally looks at John, emotions boiling over.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

But I remember her, John. I remember playing with your daughter as clearly as I remember the moment I met you for the first time.

JOHN

I know you do and I know it sounds insane to you, frankly, it sounds insane to me too, but having memories of those moments does not make them true, Sherlock. Dreams that occur during a coma can be extremely vivid. They might seemed real to you but-

SHERLOCK

But what? You can't simply tell me that two years of my life did not actually happen at all and expect me to act like it's alright. Because it's not. It's against all logic.

(his voice begins to tremble)

My whole life I could rely on my mind but now... It's betraying me. Nothing in the world makes any sense to me, John. It's like I've been thrown back in time. Hear how that sounds? Foolish. And yet I am supposed to accept it, just like that. I don't know what to believe anymore, do you understand?

JOHN

You can believe me.

Sherlock swallows. He so wishes he could.

SHERLOCK

But what if you're just another illusion, hm? Just like Rosie. Victor. Eurus. You said some dreams can be extremely vivid. Then how am I supposed to be sure that any of this is real?

JOHN

Sherlock, I swear to you, whatever... horrors you've endured, it's over. You're awake, you're here with me and I, am here with you, right here. Soon you'll remember all of it very differently. It's not alright, no, not yet, but it will be, I promise.

Sherlock gazes at John for a moment, an utterly broken expression. Then averts his eyes, turning his face to stare at the ceiling again.

SHERLOCK

(sotto)

You should go.

A beat.

On John's face: A mix of surprise and hurt.

JOHN

What?

SHERLOCK

You heard me.

John blinks, processing this. A few moments pass, his left fist clenches again. At last, he rises from the chair, heads for the door, his head lowered.

As he reaches the door, he glances at Sherlock one more time, crestfallen, barely holding back the tears.

Only very reluctantly, he turns away, pushing the door open and disappearing behind.

On Sherlock - at this, he slowly turns to look at the door, almost regretfully. Finally, he allows himself to cry again.

DISSOLVE TO:

**EXT. LONDON STREET -MORNING**

A busy London street. Heavy traffic.

CUT TO:

**EXT. ANOTHER LONDON STREET -MORNING**

On John plodding down the street, gloomy, brooding.

CUT TO:

**EXT. BAKER STREET - MORNING**

John arriving at 221B.

Panning from him to the 221B on the front door. Holding on for a moment.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY - MORNING**

The door opens, John steps into the hallway, looking as exhausted and miserable as ever. As he begins to pull off his coat, we hear an anxious voice coming from the flat downstairs.

Mrs. HUDSON

(off-screen)

John. Is that you?

John doesn't even peep. Doesn't want to concern the landlady with more bad news about Sherlock.

But as he turns over, Mrs. Hudson comes crying, throws his arms around him.

John lets out a heavy sigh, gently strokes her arm as she pulls away.

MRS. HUDSON

Oh, John. How's Sherlock? Did you talk to him? He didn't forget about us, did he? I've heard stories about people who had lost their memor-

JOHN

(he cuts her off)

Slow down, Mrs. Hudson... You're asking too many questions.

MRS. HUDSON

(sharply)

You're not answering any.

A beat.

John sighs again, appears to feel a little guilty. Wordlessly, he guides Mrs. Hudson by her arm toward the stairs. She seems a little confused but walks up the stairs with him.

John tries to avoid her gaze.

JOHN

No. Sherlock didn't forget about us. You don't have to worry. He's-

As they reach the top of the stairs, John pipes down, looks slightly uneasy.

On Mrs. Hudson's troubled face then back on John - he doesn't have the heart to tell her the whole truth.

JOHN (CONT'D)

He's going to be fine, Mrs. Hudson. It's all going to be fine.

Forcing a weak smile, he pushes open the door to the flat.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - MORNING**

Continuous: On the door as it opens. John and Mrs. Hudson enter the room, both come to a halt.

MRS. HUDSON

Well, you don't seem to be fine at all, dear.

On John's face, only half listening to her, his eyes are on Sherlock's empty armchair.

A moment later, he heads to his own armchair, throws a quick glance at Mrs. Hudson, shrugging.

JOHN

I am just...

With a deep sigh, he flops into his armchair, nestles himself.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(fibbing)

...exhausted. That's all.

On Mrs. Hudson, lamenting.

MRS. HUDSON

Poor boy. Do you want me to make you a cuppa? I'll be right back, don't you dare to dash off again.

She heads for the door and in an instant-

-she's gone.

On John - his face immediately drops. He leans back in his chair. Again, his eyes go to Sherlock's armchair. Sad, vacant.

Holding on John for a few seconds.

Suddenly, we hear footsteps approaching, up the stairs.

On John: He frowns, looks over his shoulder.

JOHN

(raises his voice)

Mrs Hudson?

On an empty doorway. A moment later - Mycroft Holmes appears, aloof as always.

MYCROFT

(sternly)

Do I look like a housekeeper to you?

John: all but rolls his eyes, his frown deepens.

JOHN

What are you doing here?

Mycroft: As he moves toward John's chair -

MYCROFT

I could ask the same question... I've been to the hospital. Thought I'd find you there.

He passes by, takes a seat in Sherlock's chair. Eyes on John, gives him a thoughtful look.

MYCROFT (CONT'D)

Shouldn't you be with my brother? Keeping him company?

John, still frowning, clearly annoyed by Mycroft's presence.

JOHN

(surly)

Last time I checked, I wasn't compelled to report to you.

MYCROFT

Didn't say you were. I was merely enquiring.

JOHN

Which is exactly what I find so annoying.

MYCROFT

Now, now, no need to fret, John. I am not here to pry.

Mycroft reaches into his breast pocket, pulls out a folded sheet of paper. A document of some sort.

John stiffens, there's the slightest change in his expression.

JOHN

Is that-?

MYCROFT

A decree to confirm your marriage was annulled, yes.

He offers the document to John.

John hesitates for a moment-

-then leans forward, reaches to have a look at the document. Scrutinises it.

On Mycroft, leans back in his seat, carries on talking.

MYCROFT (CONT'D)

Needless to say, I had to pull a few strings. Typically, the annulment process takes months, you insisted the matter was resolved within a few days. Not to mention, in the absence of the spouse.

John is still staring at the paper in his hands. Doesn't seem to be paying much attention to Mycroft.

He folds the paper, thinks for a second, then looks back at Mycroft.

JOHN

I want to know where she is.

MYCROFT

I got the impression that you never wanted to see her again.

JOHN

I don't. I just want you to find her.

MYCROFT

(sighs)

Even if I had the faintest idea where she could be I don't see why it's relevant. She's no longer your concern.

JOHN

She shot Sherlock, of course she's my concern.

MYCROFT

Ah, I see. You demand vengeance. How original. Clearly, it's clouding your senses. What exactly you expect me to do? Mary has gone off the radar. She's probably changed her identity and started a brand new life somewhere far beyond the borders of England.

On John, clenches his jaw, lowers his head. Doesn't like to hear that.

JOHN

And you're going to let her get away with it.

MYCROFT

What options do I have? I take it you've figured out who she is. What she is capable of. It's for the best if we don't pursue her. You can only imagine what people like her do to those they find inconvenient.

John snorts with contempt. Simmering underneath the surface.

JOHN

Right... Is that why Sherlock ended up with a bullet in his chest? Because he was inconvenient to her?... Why? He's never posed a threat to her.

MYCROFT

Sherlock was a mere disruption, John. Magnussen... He was the target. Must have had an awful lot of dirt on your ex-wife, possibly attempted to blackmail her... I assume her plan was to get rid of him that night... Unfortunately, my brother happened to be in a wrong place at a wrong time.

JOHN

(affronted)

Christ, he could have died!

MYCROFT

But he didn't. Besides... To be entirely fair, John, nothing bad would have happened to him, were he not so incredibly stubborn. I warned him... He shouldn't have meddled.

John stares, completely speechless.

Holding on John, there's a light tap at the door. He turns to look.

Mrs. Hudson walks in with a tea tray.

MRS. HUDSON

Oo-ooh, tea's ready!

As she notices Mycroft, she frowns.

MRS. HUDSON

You're still here?

MYCROFT

Good morning to you too.

MRS. HUDSON

Oh, hush, you sour pickle.

She steps toward John's chair, puts the tray on the stool next to the chair.

MRS. HUDSON (CONT'D)

Don't think I didn't hear you.

(she picks the tea pot, pours a cup of tea)

I might be old, but I am not deaf.

On Mycroft: mildly confused.

MYCROFT

Have I... missed something?

MRS. HUDSON

Oh, you've missed an awful lot. First of all...

Carrying the tea pot, she walks over to Mycroft, stops. Stares at him for a split second, then, without any warning - pours tea over him.

MRS. HUDSON

(pointedly)

I, am not a housekeeper.

Mycroft - he springs from the chair, gawking at his damped suit. Humiliated.

A beat on John: eyes wide.

MYCROFT

Mrs. Hudson...!

MRS. HUDSON

You're going to need to get that washed.

Silence. On Mycroft again: A sharp intake of breath. His eyes flick from Mrs. Hudson to John, then back to Mrs. Hudson. At last, he collects himself, straightens his suit, gives a nod.

Without a word, he begins to walk away, pauses at John's chair, as if to say something, but the last second decides against it.

One more glance at Mrs. Hudson-

And he disappears through the door.

On Mrs. Hudson, looking after him, scowling.

MRS. HUDSON

Grobian...

She turns back to John, her face softens again.

JOHN

Did you just-

MRS. HUDSON

Drink your tea, John, you don't want it to turn cold.

She hurries away and out of the room.

John blinks, stares for a few seconds, still a little bemused.

A moment later - with a small sigh, he leans back in his seat. Grabs his mug, gently blows on his tea, just sits there, contemplating.

Holding on...

CUT TO:

**INT. HOSPITAL WARD - MORNING**

Sherlock in a hospital bed. Glum, disheartened, pretty much, the way John has left him.

Holding on his face, we hear a creak. Panning to the door -

\- Dr. Mason enters, closes the door behind her.

Sherlock throws a glance at her - a flicker of a disgruntled look on his face.

SHERLOCK

(weakly)

Thirty three minutes ago I told you that I want to be alone... Nothing has changed since then.

Dr. Mason: She approaches Sherlock's bed, begins to check the equipment.

DR. MASON

Sadly, you're in a hospital, Mr. Holmes. You're here to be taken care of, not to be ignored.

SHERLOCK

(looks away)

I'd rather be ignored.

Silence. Dr. Mason carries on, takes a few notes. Once finished, she looks back at Sherlock, attempts to say something but Sherlock beats her to it.

SHERLOCK

Don't bother.

DR. MASON

I was just trying to-

SHERLOCK

Comfort me, yes. I don't want your empty phrases.

DR. MASON

Refusing help won't ease your pain.

SHERLOCK

What do you know about pain...

DR. MASON

Well, I am a doctor.

Sherlock looks at her.

SHERLOCK

But you don't see into my head. You can't help.

Dr. Mason ponders for a few seconds, then lowers her eyes, gives a small nod. Looks back at Sherlock.

DR. MASON

Then I suppose you need a doctor who can... Were you anyone else I'd suggest you talk to a therapist, but you're not anyone else, are you?

Sherlock frowns.

Dr. Mason gives another nod, then turns to leave.

At the door she comes to a halt, hesitates, then turns back to Sherlock.

DR. MASON

In case you need anything, call a nurse.

She leaves.

Sherlock blinks in confusion, as if contemplating her words...

Holding on his face-

DISSOLVE TO:

**EXT. LONDON - DAY**

TIMELAPSE: Fast changing London skyline suggests we're jumping a few days forward.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - EVENING**

John, carrying two shopping bags, is climbing the stairs. Pushes open the door to the flat.

Walks to the kitchen, puts the bags on the table. Seems distracted, his eyes keep going to Sherlock's empty armchair.

Suddenly, he stops unpacking, just stares. Sorrowful, gloomy. It's been too long.

He throws a glance at the bags, sighs, doesn't bother anymore. Heads to Sherlock's armchair. Sits down, strokes the arms of the chair.

On the door - Mrs. Hudson enters.

MRS. HUDSON

John. Finally. You've been away for ages. Were you at the hospital?

JOHN

Nope.

(points toward the bags on the kitchen table)

Just grocery shopping.

MRS. HUDSON

Shopping? But what about Sherlock? You haven't paid a visit since Monday...

(puts her hands on her hips)

John Watson, are you trying to conceal something from me?

John wavers for a moment. Decides to fib.

JOHN

I am not, of course I am not. I told you, Sherlock's doing fine. As soon as he leaves the hospital, everything turns back to normal... No worries.

He musters up a smile, not very convincing.

Mrs. Hudson gives him a suspicious look, asks no more questions though. Turns on her heels, leaves.

Back on John. He lets his head fall back against the cushion. Closes his eyes, slowly dozing off...

CUT TO:

**INT. SHERLOCK'S MEMORY PALACE CORRIDOR - NIGHT**

The same endless, surreal corridor from HIS LAST VOW, lined with doors. Except this time, it's darker and clearly just a dream, not actually inside Sherlock's Mind Palace.

There's Sherlock walking along the corridor, groping in the dark. Suddenly, one of the doors on his left fly open, there's a flash of light and-

\- Mary Morstan, the bride in white. She's aiming her gun, right at Sherlock - who has frozen in spot, cannot move.

Just like in HIS LAST VOW. Mary smirks, pulls the trigger. Shots Sherlock, right through his heart.

He begins to fall, slowly, slowly-

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT**

On Sherlock's face, as he falls to the floor. Zooming out - we realise he is lying on the floor of 221B. Bleeding out - similar to the opening scene.

**INT. HOSPITAL WARD - NIGHT**

Close on Sherlock's face as his eyes fly wide open. With a gasp, he jerks up in the bed.

Wider: On Sherlock, panting. He urges to check his wound -

\- A fresh scar, not bleeding.

He lets out a deep sigh of relief, looks around the room, as if to make sure he's still in the hospital. For a moment he just sits, thinking, allowing his breathing to return to normal.

Then, furrows his brow, as if a thought had just crossed his mind. Quickly reaches to press the nurse call button...

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - NIGHT**

Baker street. John, now sleeping curled in Sherlock's armchair.

There's a phone ring, startling him awake. He takes a moment to perceive then begins to look for his phone. Finally, pulls it out of his trousers pocket.

Squints at the screen. Doesn't know the number.

Rubbing his eyes, he answers it.

JOHN

(sleepily)

Yes. Hello.

SHERLOCK (V.O.)

John?

At once, John's eyes immediately fly wide open. He's wide awake. Astonished.

JOHN

Sherlock?! What... Why are you calling from a-

SHERLOCK (V.O.)

My battery's dead. I pickpocketed one of the nurses. Can you come? Please.

Without hesitation, John springs up from the chair, heads for the door.

JOHN

What happened? Are you okay?

CUT TO:

**INT. HOSPITAL WARD - NIGHT**

Sherlock, slightly trembling.

SHERLOCK

No, no I am not okay... John. I ... I need you.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT**

John racing down the stairs, the phone next to his ear.

JOHN

Jesus, what's wrong? Are you in pain? Why didn't you call your doctor?

He grabs his coat, clumsily putting it on.

SHERLOCK (V.O.)

Didn't I just?

John freezes, his phone almost slips from his hand.

SHERLOCK (V.O.)

John? John are you listening?

On John's face - looks positively puzzled, lost for words.

JOHN

Yes... Yes, of course. I'll be right there.

At this...

CUT TO:

**INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - NIGHT**

John striding down the empty hospital corridor. At the door, that lead to Sherlock's ward, he barely comes to a halt. Throws open the door, practically hurtles inside...

CUT TO:

**INT. HOSPITAL WARD - NIGHT**

... On John, stops in the doorway. A small gasp of surprise.

There's Dr. Mason and two nurses standing around Sherlock's bed.

Nurse Barton - short, blonde, kind, a little shy.

The other nurse, a surly young brunette, is Nurse Ferguson. Unfriendly.

Seems the three of them were arguing but as they notice John, they pipe down, staring at him.

John, closes the door behind him. Awkward silence.

DR. MASON

(frowns)

Dr. Watson... what are you doing here?

John, looks at Sherlock, then back at Dr. Mason.

JOHN

Sherlock... He... I am here to see Sherlock.

DR. MASON

(glances at her watch)

It's 11 PM.

John, disconcerted.

On Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

(to Dr. Mason)

Let him stay.

DR. MASON

But-

SHERLOCK

As far as I am aware, he's got a special permission.

Dr. Mason: hesitates only for a moment.

DR. MASON

Alright. But just this once.

(to John)

Next time, do inform me before you decide to come crashing through the door past visiting hours.

JOHN

(a bit embarrassed)

Certainly.

Nurse Ferguson suddenly pipes up, irritated.

NURSE FERGUSON

What about my phone??

Dr. Mason, throws a stern glance at Nurse Ferguson.

DR. MASON

We've just discussed this.

John's eyes go to the complaining nurse, he scowls.

JOHN

What's that about?

NURSE FERGUSON

(huffs,points at Sherlock)

He stole my phone.

Sherlock, rolls his eyes.

SHERLOCK

(to Nurse Ferguson)

Check your pocket.

NURSE FERGUSON

I beg your pardon?

SHERLOCK

(firmly)

Check your pocket.

Exasperated, Nurse Ferguson reaches to the pocket of her uniform... Suddenly, her eyes widen in surprise.

She pulls out a phone, stares at it. And so does everybody else.

Dr. Mason crosses her arms.

DR. MASON

Well. Do you care to explain?

NURSE FERGUSON

It... it wasn't there five minutes ago. He must have-

DR. MASON

I think that's enough, Ms. Ferguson, don't you?

On Nurse Ferguson, outraged. She glares at Sherlock, stomps off.

Dr. Mason throws an apologetic look at John, then heads to the door. Nurse Barton, right on her feels, closes the door behind them.

John and Sherlock, finally, they're alone.

John gives Sherlock a look. Questioning.

Sherlock: knows that look, shrugs.

SHERLOCK

I just borrowed it. Between you and me, John, she's incredibly irritating. And judging from what I have found in her phone, also a criminal, alas, I have no proof at my disposal.

Silence. John walks up to Sherlock's bed.

Sherlock looks up at him, blinks.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

What? No reprimands? No reproaching? I just insulted someone.

John, contemplative, he walks around the bed.

JOHN

I am here because you said you need me, nothing else matters to me.

SHERLOCK

Oh... That's... I appreciate it, John. If I have to be honest, I didn't expect you to come. After what I said.

JOHN

Forget about it.

SHERLOCK

You're not angry at me?

JOHN

Angry? Why would I be angry at you?

SHERLOCK

I tried to chase you off.

JOHN

I don't blame you.

(pulls up a chair, sits)

Now, tell me what's wrong. You sounded rather... desperate on the phone.

A few moments of silence. Sherlock: purses his lips, looks away.

SHERLOCK

I... remembered. Something... something important.

(sighs)

The last memory I have from before I found myself in the hospital. My mind was too clogged, I wasn't allowed to think clearly. Probably that's why I'd forgot about it. Which is weird, because the memory itself is crucial.

JOHN

What have you remembered?

Sherlock looks back at John.

SHERLOCK

Hearing your voice.

JOHN

My voice? What did I say?

SHERLOCK

Wake up, Sherlock.

John - a little surprised to hear that.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

(shrugs)

And I did. At least I thought I did. I walked out of my bedroom, couldn't find you... but you kept repeating those words, again and again, and I couldn't understand why, I thought I was awake, but then... I started bleeding. Out of the blue.

(he looks at his wound, touches it)

I fell to the floor and... Well, then I woke up. Again. But this time, this time-

JOHN

This time for real.

SHERLOCK

(purses his lips, looks back at John)

You spoke to me, didn't you? That night. Your voice... your voice wasn't a part of a...

 He struggles to finish, still not entirely prepared to accept what happened.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

... dream.

John, swallows, nodding.

JOHN

Yes, I did speak to you. Shortly before you woke up from coma. I had no idea you could hear me. A part of the reality must have bled into your dreams.

Sherlock, this time he doesn't try to argue.

SHERLOCK

You were... worried about me.

A beat.

JOHN

Well, I must have done a pretty rubbish job at expressing how much I care about you, since you must ask.

Silence. Sherlock, pondering for a moment. His voice drops.

SHERLOCK

John. You'd... never hurt me, would you?

At this, John frowns,confused.

JOHN

No. No, of course I'd never hurt you. Why would you think of something like that?

SHERLOCK

Not even if I were to be blamed for Mary's death?

John stares in horror.

JOHN

Sherlock...

SHERLOCK

(sighs)

I know, I know.

(imitates John)

Mary's not dead, stop rambling Sherlock, you're crazy.

JOHN

That's... not what I was going to say.

SHERLOCK

You don't have to lie to make me feel better, John. It's not working.

John

Sherlock, I don't think you're crazy.

SHERLOCK

(upset)

Why not? I remember people who don't exist. Things that, apparently, didn't happen.

He pipes down. Silent for a moment, as if reconsidering, then looks back at John.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Not that I'd prefer those things to be true. In retrospect, I should have been relieved to learn that I had been merely dreaming. And make no mistake, I am now The problem is, I'd failed to realise it myself. I had been tricked by my own mind, John, I've lost control. How can I possibly trust my senses now, after everything that's happened?

(A beat, he sighs)

It's what I deserve, don't I.

John sniffs, listening to Sherlock talking like this, hurts. His voice breaks.

JOHN

What? No, no you don't.

SHERLOCK

I am pretty sure everyone else I've ever met would disagree with you.

JOHN

I don't care about anyone else.

SHERLOCK

Not even Mary?

JOHN

Mary... After what she did to you?

Sherlock, doesn't reply. Fiddling with the hem of his duvet. A tad shy.

SHERLOCK

To be entirely honest, John. I expected you to forgive her.

JOHN

What makes you think I would?

SHERLOCK

(shrugs)

She's your wife.

JOHN

Was.

SHERLOCK

Oh. Well... That explains a lot. I did wonder what had happened to your ring. Where is it?

JOHN

At the bottom of the Thames.

SHERLOCK

And Mary?

JOHN

Who the hell knows? I wish I did.

Sherlock, contemplative.

SHERLOCK

But how did you find out? That she had shot me. You said you didn't know what exactly had happened in Magnussen's flat, so how come you knew? If I was in a coma this whole time, it couldn't have been me who told you.

JOHN

I might not be the brightest person under the Sun, Sherlock, but I did find it a tad suspicious that she had disappeared the very night you'd got shot. And besides... She's always been wearing too much perfume.

Sherlock: a moment of realisation.

SHERLOCK

Claire De La Lune.

For the first time in forever, Sherlock's face lightens up. He musters up a small smile.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Smart boy.

John: the faintest shade of pink upon his cheeks. Quickly tries to change the subject, but fails to suppress a smile. A grin, in fact.

JOHN

Anyone could work that out.

SHERLOCK

Not just anyone.

JOHN

Sherlock...

John smiles again, lowers his head as if to hide his blushing face. As he does, he takes a glance at his watch...

Oi, look, it's bloody late. You should take a rest.

He begins to rise, but...

SHERLOCK

What are you- you're leaving? But I... I don't want you to go.

JOHN

I...I can't stay all night.

SHERLOCK

Why not?

JOHN

Because-

Because John doesn't know how to deal with receiving compliments. Isn't used to it. Which isn't a good enough excuse to leave, especially since John doesn't actually want to anyway. And then there's Sherlock. Giving him actual puppy eyes. John chuckles.

JOHN (CONT'D)

All right, you win.

He sits down again. Crosses his arms.

On Sherlock, a little, weak smile on his face. John smiles too.

JOHN

What?

SHERLOCK

Nothing. Just... Thank you.

JOHN

For what?

SHERLOCK

Everything?

John's smile grows into a huge grin again. And so does Sherlock's...

Wider: On John and Sherlock... Panning out.

CUT TO:

**EXT. LONDON - NIGHT**

London skyline. Night turns into a purple dawn.

CUT TO:

**INT. HOSPITAL WARD - MORNING**

Sherlock, sitting in the bed - on his own phone, typing away. Seems to be in a much better state than before. Lively, vigilant, in a better mood.

A moment later - the door opens, but he doesn't pay attention to it.

Dr. Mason had walked in.

As she walks up to his bed, to check some equipment, Sherlock throws a glance at her, finally acknowledges her presence. Then looks around the room, still typing. He blinks, slowly, as if he's just realised something.

SHERLOCK

(to Dr. Mason)

Where's John?

Dr. Mason, makes a note.

DR. MASON

He's left ten minutes ago.

SHERLOCK

Ten minutes ago? He's been gone that long?

DR. MASON

(smiles to herself)

You two seem to have a very special bond, don't you?

Sherlock stops typing. Looks at her, gazing intently, as he does when trying to make a deduction. Noticing this, Dr. Mason freaks a little.

DR. MASON (CONT'D)

(apologetically)

I... I didn't mean to imply-

SHERLOCK

It's okay.

A bit embarrassed, Dr. Mason focuses on her notes again.

Sherlock, still gazing at her.

SHERLOCK

You should ask her out.

On Dr. Mason, she throws a look full of bewilderment at Sherlock, accidentally dropping her pen to the floor. She crouches to pick it up, stuttering through her reply.

DR. MASON

What... What are you talking about?

She stands up, tries to act nonchalant but failing.

SHERLOCK

You and Nurse Barton. Ask her out on a date. Have dinner, light some candles, whatever people do on dates.

Dr. Mason, gawking at Sherlock. Flushing red.

DR. MASON

Is it that obvious?

SHERLOCK

Fairly.

DR. MASON

What. I can't ask her out. We're colleagues. She's... I don't even...

SHERLOCK

It's not my place to say. Just a piece of advice. Don't waste your chances. You might regret it for the rest of your life.

Dr. Mason: Finally, she collects herself. She doesn't seem to be vexed, nor uncomfortable. She understands.

DR. MASON

Personal experience?

On Sherlock. Silent. Suddenly, there's a hint of sadness behind his eyes.

The door, visible in the background, opens. John enters the room. Smiling, but looks a bit anxious to see Dr. Mason there.

JOHN

Hey. Everything alright?

Dr. Mason, her eyes flick between Sherlock and John. She musters up a small smile.

DR. MASON

Absolutely. As a matter of fact...

(looks at her notes)

Sherlock's fit enough to go home.

John and Sherlock: Exchange a look. A bit unexpected, this.

Dr. Mason, back to her professional self.

DR. MASON (CONT'D)

(to Sherlock)

We've done several additional tests and your results, Mr. Holmes, are better than good. In short, you're just a few necessary formalities away from going home.

(to John)

Dr. Watson here is going to take good care of you, no doubt.

Throwing another, a little awkward smile, she walks out of the room. As if nothing happened.

On John, looks at Sherlock, grinning from ear to ear.

JOHN

Did you hear that?

Noticing Sherlock's glum, crestfallen face, however, his smile quickly fades. Something seems to be bothering Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

(shrugs)

Yes. I am going home.

JOHN

What. Aren't you happy?

SHERLOCK

Am I not?

He flashes an insincere smile.

A beat on John, a bit unsure of this. Worried for his friend.

CUT TO:

**INT. CAB - MORNING**

John and Sherlock in the backseat of a cab. There's a huge gap between them.

Sherlock, seems to be in a deep, deep thought. Staring out of the window.

On John: Turns to look at Sherlock. His eyes go to Sherlock's hands clasped in his lap, clenching, fingers drumming. Nervous.

On John's face again, contemplative, wondering what might have caused such a sudden change in Sherlock's behaviour...

CUT TO:

**EXT. BAKER STREET - MORNING**

The cab draws up at 221B. Sherlock leaps out first, eyes immediately going to the front door. As if a bit cautiously, he approaches the door.

John - in the background - paying for the cab. Then, he walks up to Sherlock, carrying a duffel bag.

On Sherlock: staring at the door, almost as if afraid to enter.

John, gently, he places his free hand on Sherlock's back.

JOHN

Are you okay?

No reply. Sherlock throws but a glance at John, then reaches for the handle, opens the front door...

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - MORNING**

On the door, as it opens. Sherlock enters the room, John right behind him. Neither of them is wearing a coat anymore.

John puts the bag on the sofa, eyes back on Sherlock, who's made a few more steps, now standing in the middle of the room. He seems to be scanning the place, remembering, noticing various elements that have (haven't) changed. Takes his time.

Sherlock's eyes go to the carpet. He shudders.

SHERLOCK

Last time I was here-

He pipes down, as if a thought has occurred to him. His eyes go up, he looks around the room again, scrutinising. Looks at the skull painting on the wall. The original one.

On John, a bit concerned.

JOHN

Sherlock?

Sherlock gives him a look, but offers no reply. Then turns around, walks toward his armchair. Touches the arm, strokes his fingers across the leather fabric.

SHERLOCK

Never mind.

John: gives a nod. Respectful.

JOHN

You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.

Sherlock remains quiet. The silence is heavy, almost awkward. John rubs the back of his neck, looks around the room, finally, an idea crosses his mind.

JOHN (CONT'D)

Um, I'll... make you a cup of tea, okay?

He walks to the kitchen, turns on the kettle.

On Sherlock, gazing at John for a few moments, a bit disbelievingly, albeit softly all the same.

SHERLOCK

Why are you doing all this?

John is putting a tea bag into the mug: Can't help but smile at Sherlock.

JOHN

It's just tea, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

That's not what I meant. Why are you... here? With me? You could be anywhere else.

JOHN

Maybe I don't want to be anywhere else.

SHERLOCK

But why? Why would you... Choose me?

John's face turns rather serious, his smile slightly drops. He so want to answer. Can't. Doesn't. Averts his eyes.

JOHN

Why does it surprise you?

Sherlock shrugs. Lowers his head, fidgeting.

SHERLOCK

I've never been anyone's priority.

Sherlock's words break John's heart. John's eyes dart back to Sherlock - he looks as if desperate for a hug, but too shy to ask for it.

He hesitates no more, turns to approach Sherlock. Stops a few feet in front of him. Crosses his arms.

JOHN

Well, I, for one, know that isn't quite true.

Sherlock, dumbfounded.

SHERLOCK

...Since when?

JOHN

Since we met.

Sherlock opens his mouth, but doesn't know how to respond to that.

The sound of a wheezing kettle distracts them.

Slightly embarrassed, John flashes an awkward smile, backing away toward the kitchen.

Holding on an astonished Sherlock, we hear John pouring the water into the mug.

A few moments later, John's coming out the kitchen - the mug in his hand. He offers it to Sherlock, who reaches for it, without a word. Just stares at John.

Somewhat absently, he lifts the mug to his lips, blows on his tea, sniffs. And as he does, a small smile crosses his lips. Finally.

SHERLOCK

My favourite.

JOHN

(smiles)

I am not actually _that_  unobservant, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

I concur. You're the second smartest person I know.

John: flustered again.

JOHN

Come on, Sherlock. Next thing I learn is that you  _mean_  it.

SHERLOCK

Of... course I _mean_  it? Say, John, have I ever called you unobservant?

John gives him the look.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Okay, maybe once. Or twice. Clearly, I misjudged. You're often a lot more observant than I am, John. It's been proven to me many times over the past few years.

Suddenly, Sherlock pipes down. Purses his lips, throws a brief glance at John then turns around, walks toward the window.

John's smile drops as well. He takes a step forward.

JOHN

Sherlock, I know what you're thinking, but you shouldn't burden yourself with such thoughts. What happened doesn't... it doesn't diminish you in any way.

Sherlock's silhouette, we see him from behind. A brooding figure in the grey light.

SHERLOCK

Do you think I should... start off with a clean state?

JOHN

You can always try.

On Sherlock's face. He looks over his shoulder, at John.

SHERLOCK

Will you help me?

JOHN

Always.

SHERLOCK

Then you deserve to know. Everything.

Sherlock turns over, walks over to his chair, sits down.

On John, mildly doubtful.

JOHN

Sherlock, you don't have to explain.

SHERLOCK

But I must. Bottling it up inside... it's driving me mad. I might as well burst. I need you to listen to me, John. Please.

A beat on John. Wavers for another second, then he gives a nod. Takes a seat in his chair. Eyes still on Sherlock.

Sherlock, clutching the mug in his hands. Looking down at the mug, rather than John. As if nervous, unsure how to start. After a moment, he exhales, finally composes himself... Looks back at John.

CUT TO:

**INT. SCOTLAND YARD - DAY**

On Lestrade sitting behind his desk, his face buried in his hands, looking extremely worn out. He lets out a heavy sigh.

LESTRADE

You have to be kidding me.

Wider: A small, plain office cluttered with stacks of papers and files.

We see a female police officer, standing in front of Lestrade's desk. Looks pointedly at him.

POLICE OFFICER

Kidding around is a luxury we can't afford under current circumstances. Sir, this has been the third heist in three weeks. They're making us look like incompetent fools. Not to mention we don't even know who they actually are.

Lestrade runs his hand down his face, looks up at the officer.

LESTRADE

How much they took?

POLICE OFFICER

One and a half million.

LESTRADE

Left no trace behind I presume.

POLICE OFFICER

(shakes her head)

The usual. They break in without being seen, take the money, disappear like smoke. It's becoming an ugly routine.

Lestrade - a man on the brink of hopelessness.

LESTRADE

And I have no clue how to break it.

Silence. The police officer seems to be hesitating to break it.

POLICE OFFICER (CONT'D)

What about... Him? Can't he help? Sherlock Holmes.

Lestrade lets out another sigh, shakes his head. A resolute no.

LESTRADE

He's unavailable.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - DAY**

Baker Street again. Later.

John, on the edge of his seat, listening to Sherlock, who's just finished his speech.

SHERLOCK

(off-screen)

...And that's the whole story.

Still on John, staring at Sherlock in astonishment, almost disbelief, trying to process what he just heard.

JOHN

Well, that... was...

SHERLOCK

Dreadful.

JOHN

Dreadful doesn't even begin to describe it.

SHERLOCK

Imagine thinking it was real.

JOHN

I'd rather not. Because the things you've just told me about have nothing whatsoever to do with reality, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

Yes, recounting those events have certainly helped to change my perspective. But it won't be easy to forget. Scars are scars. Doesn't matter whether caused by a bullet or an utterly bizarre, coma-induced nightmare.

Sherlock's eyes go to the skull painting again. Then back to John. Smiles sadly.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

But I am better than I was. Still a little muddleheaded, but other than that... much better.

John contemplates, he cannot be certain of it.

JOHN

Sure? Sherlock, you don't have to lie to me.

(leans forward)

I know you've experienced things, horrifying enough to make you question reality, but I assure you - you're never going to be treated the way you were treated in... that place. I'll see to it.

SHERLOCK

I know you will, John.

They smile at each other in silence, then, John rises.

JOHN

Alright, this calls for more tea. I might actually need a cuppa myself.

SHERLOCK

And biscuits.

JOHN

Biscuits. Well, there aren't any, but I'll go and get some if you want. Can I leave you here for five minutes? I'll be right back.

Sherlock, chuckles.

SHERLOCK

You don't have to worry about me, John. I'll be right here, waiting for you.

John nods, heads toward the door.

On Sherlock, as if considering something, a sudden thought, then-

SHERLOCK

Wait!

John, comes to a halt, eyes on Sherlock. Frowning, a little concerned.

Sherlock, unsure, hangs his head. Then looks at John again.

SHERLOCK

Will you... stay tonight?

Slowly, John's lips spread into a smile.

JOHN

Why, do you want me to?

SHERLOCK

Well, truth be told... I want you to... I mean... What I mean is that... I'd like you to stay forever, John.

JOHN

Forever?

John takes a few steps toward Sherlock's chair.

Sherlock: shyly.

SHERLOCK

Yes, well, Mary had disappeared and since you're no longer stuck in a toxic, unhappy marriage and I am free from the harrowing, alternative universe my mind had been trapped in, I thought we could, perhaps, try to return to what we had... had before.

JOHN

So, in short, you just want me to move back here, right?

SHERLOCK

Oh, yes, you could put it that way.

JOHN

(smiles)

God, I can't believe you haven't noticed yet.

Sherlock blinks up at him, confused.

JOHN (CONT'D)

I already moved back, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

Oh. You did?

JOHN

Of course I did. It was about damn time I returned home, don't you think?

On Sherlock, barely able to hold back a grin.

SHERLOCK

I still play the violin when I am thinking. Does that bother you?

John, grinning too.

JOHN

Not remotely.

SHERLOCK

Just like old times, then?

JOHN

Just like old times. And then some.

Sherlock, tilts his head, as if trying to figure out what exactly that means.

John, offers no further response, but a smile. Then turns to leave.

Back on Sherlock, he seems to be at pace. He smiles to himself. Old times indeed...

CUT TO:

**INT. BANK - NIGHT**

Inside the vault of a bank. Dark, alarms ringing. There's two men, hastily putting money into bags. We don't see their faces, they're wearing balaclavas.

Suddenly, a sound of footsteps approaching fast, coming from the distance. Cacophony of voices. Guards. The two men exchange a look. Without hesitation, they grab the bags, then storm out of the place.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - MORNING**

Late morning. Still warm. Sunrays peek through the windows, illuminating the flat.

On John, at the kitchen counter, preparing breakfast - eggs, toasts, tea. He seems to be relaxed.

Now on Sherlock, still wearing pyjamas, enters the kitchen with a yawn. At once, he comes to a freezing halt, does a double take upon noticing John, as if he isn't sure whether he is really there or not.

John throws him a warm smile, then returns to cutting a toast.

JOHN

Well, good morning, sleepyhead.

Sherlock - his lips automatically spread into a grin.

SHERLOCK

Good morning, John.

He resumes walking, into the sitting room. Sits down in his chair, eyes on John. For a moment, he just watches him. Content.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Do you have any idea how much I missed this?

John, looks at him. Quirks an eyebrow.

JOHN

Missed what?

SHERLOCK

You. Having you around. Our conversations, your witty remarks, your hair...

Suddenly, Sherlock pipes down, a bit embarrassed. A beat on John. He chuckles.

JOHN

My hair?

He walks toward the door, leans against the frame with his arms crossed. A little smirk on his face.

On Sherlock, breaking the eye contact.

SHERLOCK

Yes. A trifle I might have forgot to mention. The other you, wore his hair differently.

John chuckles at the absurdity of that sentence.

JOHN

And you didn't like it.

SHERLOCK

It didn't strike me as odd at first. It does now. It's not that you didn't look good, but, um-

John's smile drops as his mouth ever so slowly falls open.

Only now, Sherlock starts to realise what he had said. Blushes, embarrassed.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

What I mean is that... I like your hair better the way it is. It's more... you.

It takes John a few moments to make a move. The smirk is suddenly back. A playful smirk. He takes a step toward Sherlock's chair. Carefully, as if testing the waters.

JOHN

Sherlock, if I didn't know you, I'd say you were... flirting with me.

He emphasises the last few words, but his expression is that of a man who's having a hard time believing it.

On Sherlock, he draws a long breath, as if to buy some time before responding.

SHERLOCK

Maybe I was.

Finally, he exhales, a deep long sigh. Sherlock seems to be regretting what he said.

John, despite himself, bites his lip.

JOHN

Well, then, you can most certainly continue doing just that at the table.

(beckons)

Come on, I made breakfast.

Sherlock gawks at him.

SHERLOCK

I... assumed we were going to laugh it off and pretend it had never happened.

Now on John - lost for words. Mortified.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Or... Not?

JOHN

Yeah. That's exactly what I had in mind.

SHERLOCK

Oh. Okay.

JOHN

Okay.

A beat. Awkward silence.

JOHN

Breakfast?

SHERLOCK

Breakfast.

Sherlock rises, follows John into the kitchen.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/KITCHEN - MORNING**

On John, at the counter. Takes two mugs, puts them in front of Sherlock, who's already taken a seat at the table.

And as he does, we hear a ring - John's phone, lying atop the table, next to the newspapers. He throws a glance at the device, but ignores it.

Sherlock, frowns at the phone, then looks at John.

SHERLOCK

Are you not going to answer it?

John snorts, mildly disgruntled. He walks up to the counter again, picks up the food he'd prepared, places the plates on the table. Then sits down, opposite Sherlock.

Scowling, he looks at the screen of his phone.

JOHN

Unknown number.

At once, the ringing stops. John seems to be relieved. One more look at Sherlock, then he proceeds to eat his breakfast.

The atmosphere is still, somewhat awkward, neither of them seem to know what to say at this point.

Sherlock hasn't even touched his food yet. Stares at John, zoning out.

John lifts his gaze, gives him a questioning look.

JOHN

Sherlock?

Hearing his name snaps Sherlock out of pondering. He shakes his head as if to shed off intrusive thoughts.

SHERLOCK

I, er... was thinking about getting back to work, what do you think?

JOHN

Back to work?

SHERLOCK

My brain feels fogged, I need to clear it. Distract myself from thinking about what happened. Once and for all. Or at least until I learn how to cope with it.

JOHN

It's been barely a day since you left the hospital.

SHERLOCK

Exactly. I've wasted too much time.

JOHN

I am not sure it's a good idea.

SHERLOCK

I have no other.

John wavers. He doesn't like the sound of it, but doesn't protest.

JOHN

Alright. I'll check your inbox, then. See if there's anything interesting.

He returns to eating, but only for a moment. Notices that Sherlock hasn't started eating yet, just stares at John, eagerly, as if waiting for something.

JOHN (CONT'D)

_After_ breakfast, Sherlock. You must eat.

Sherlock pouts in return, then finally, focuses on his food.

We hear a ring again, and again, it's John's phone buzzing.

On John - takes a glance at the phone, rolls his eyes.

SHERLOCK

Same number?

JOHN

Nope. Lestrade.

SHERLOCK

Answer it. He might have a case worthy of my attention.

JOHN

(chuckles)

I doubt that.

He grabs the newspaper from across the table.

JOHN

_This_ -

Points at the picture on the front. One of the London banks.

JOHN (CONT'D)

-is why he's calling.

The headline says: FOUR TIMES. FOUR MILLIONS.

Sherlock looks confused.

SHERLOCK

(frowns, disappointed)

Robberies? Not exactly my cup of tea.

JOHN

Thought so. Lestrade's been pestering me ever since I told him you'd woken up. He expected you to immediately dive back into action.

John pipes down, ponders for a second, as if he's just remembered something.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(a little guilty)

To be fair, I didn't tell him the whole truth.

SHERLOCK

That was nice of you. I don't need anyone to think I am a complete loon.

JOHN

Sherlock-

SHERLOCK

I've changed my mind. Tell me about the case, John.

A beat.

JOHN

Alright, then. Remember Waters gang?

SHERLOCK

Vaguely.

JOHN

These two are better. Three weeks. Four robberies. No clues.

SHERLOCK

Hm. A solid three.

John snickers.

The phone stops buzzing. Sherlock looks at it. Pouts.

SHERLOCK

He's given up.

JOHN

You'd take it?

SHERLOCK

I was considering it.

John gives him a look.

JOHN

You were considering a three?

SHERLOCK

...You're right, that's beneath me.

On John, smiling, fondly shaking his head.

Silence descends again. Sherlock stares at his toast, but doesn't take a bite, seems to be distracted, still.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

I know you said after breakfast, John, but-

As he looks up, he sees that John's already reached for his phone and is typing.

Noticing that Sherlock's gazing, John looks at him, flashes another smile.

Back on Sherlock - he returns the smile. Positively besotted.

(The following couple of scenes are a montage of Sherlock and John solving various cases. Light music in the background. Several weeks pass.)

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

The client chair - An eccentric man in his 40s sitting in it. John and Sherlock sitting in their respective armchairs.

ECCENTRIC MAN

...Bloody plant. I told my wife not to bring it home.

On Sherlock, exchanging a look with John. Tries his best to be polite.

SHERLOCK

A plant. Murdered your wife.

ECCENTRIC MAN

Murdered. Brutally. It ate her.

Sherlock - another glance at John, crying for help.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

Same as before. This time, there is a cocky, young man sitting in the client chair.

COCKY YOUNG MAN

Mum has changed the locks. Father doesn't talk to me.

SHERLOCK

That's what happens when you steal money from your own parents.

COCKY YOUNG MAN

(affronted)

Aren't you supposed to be helping people out?

SHERLOCK

Certainly. I'd help your mum change the locks, had you come sooner.

On John, trying desperately to stifle a laugh.

The young man - blinking stupidly at Sherlock.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

Same as before. A little, shy girl sitting in the client chair.

LITTLE GIRL

Will you find Brutus for me?

Sherlock, fully attentive, leans forward in his seat.

SHERLOCK

(to John)

John, take notes.

(to little girl, softly)

When it's the last time you saw your dog?

LITTLE GIRL

Turtle.

SHERLOCK

Turtle?

The little girl reaches for something in her skirt pocket. Pulls out a folded paper - unfolds it, shows to Sherlock-

-there's a photo of a small turtle, the caption underneath it: MISSING

SHERLOCK

Oh.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

A sweet, beautiful woman in the client chair. Eyes on John, rather than Sherlock. Looks like she's trying to catch his attention.

BEAUTIFUL WOMAN

(a bit desperately)

You're my last hope. The police refuses to help.

On Sherlock, severely annoyed, his eyes flick between the woman and John, who's reading newspapers. Completely unfazed.

Sherlock huffs, folds his fingers underneath his chin.

SHERLOCK

Maybe because your story sounds fishy. You said the burglar had taken nothing but the diamonds. Sounds like he knew exactly where they'd been. Strange, to say the least. It could be someone you know. You caught him in the act, you must have noticed something.

John looks up from the papers - a furtive glance at Sherlock. He smirks.

BEAUTIFUL WOMAN

I told you everything I remember.

SHERLOCK

Hm. Not nearly enough for me to draw a valuable conclusion. I am afraid I can't help.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - DAY**

(The music should stop at this point)

Sherlock's quickly leading the woman through the door, when suddenly she stops, much to his disappointment. She turns around. Instinctively, her eyes go to John.

BEAUTIFUL WOMAN

Shouldn't I give you my number? I... I mean, in case I remember-

SHERLOCK

Oh, that won't be necessary.

Doors slam behind her. Sherlock lets out a heavy, exasperated sigh.

He turns around, flinches - John has approached him. There's that playful smirk on his face.

SHERLOCK

What?

JOHN

What was that about?

SHERLOCK

You tell me. She couldn't have torn her eyes off you. It was annoying.

JOHN

Oh, was she flirting? I haven't noticed.

SHERLOCK

How could you not? She was practically... whatever.

John looks Sherlock up and down. Mild disbelief.

JOHN

Sherlock, are you... jealous?

Sherlock - eyes wide. A deer in the headlights.

SHERLOCK

Jealous? Me? Because people flirt with you?

He snorts. Absurd.

John chuckles, heads toward the kitchen. But as he does, Sherlock's expression changes.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

(mutters to himself)

More likely than you think.

John has heard it though. He takes a swift step back, freezes, raising an eyebrow. Stares at Sherlock. What did he just say?

JOHN

What??

Sherlock - properly flustered.

SHERLOCK

Milk!

John frowns.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

I said I should go and get some... milk.

John's frown deepens. What? Half-bemused, half-disappointed. Sherlock's red as a tomato.

At once, we hear a doorbell, putting an abrupt end to the awkward situation. Sherlock seems to be grateful for the distraction.

JOHN

Are you expecting another client?

SHERLOCK

(teasingly)

No, are you?

John snorts, gives him an amused look.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

221B. Focusing on a plump lady in her 60s, sitting in the client chair. This is Mrs. Merrilow.

Sherlock sitting in his chair. This time, however, John is half-sitting on the arm of Sherlock's chair. Arms crossed over his chest.

On Mrs Merrilow - rather perturbed.

MRS. MERRILOW

It's a matter of life and death, Mrs. Holmes.

SHERLOCK

Go on.

MRS. MERRILOW

It's my lodger, Ms. Ronder. I am convinced she's possessed. She's started acting very... odd, recently.

SHERLOCK

Could you be more specific?

MRS. MERRILOW

She hides her face behind a veil, never leaves the flat. Only rarely lets me in. The worst are the noises. She often cries at night. Sometimes I hear her shouting.

Cut to Sherlock, listening intently.

SHERLOCK

What exact words Ms. Ronder shouts?

Here Mrs. Merrilow stutters a little, as if she dreads to say the words out loud.

MRS. MERRILOW

(whispers)

That beast! That bastard!

Sherlock and John exchange a look.

SHERLOCK

(to Mrs. Merrilow)

Does she live alone?

MRS. MERRILOW

She does now. Her boyfriend suddenly vanished about two weeks ago. I did not know much about him, but they seemed like a lovely couple.

SHERLOCK

I presume it's when her behaviour started to change.

A beat.

MRS. MERRILOW

(she thinks for a second)

Now that you mention it... What could it mean?

A beat. Sherlock thinks for a long moment. Making a deduction, it appears so. At once, he sighs, his voice slightly drops, but he tries not to get too emotional.

SHERLOCK

(gravely)

Ms. Ronder is not possessed, Mrs. Merrilow. She's... hurt.

MRS. MERRILOW

But what about the veil?

SHERLOCK

I do have a theory, but you won't like it. I assume Ms. Ronder's face... has been horribly mangled. It's why she's covering it.

MRS. MERRILOW

(gasps)

Mangled? Who would have done such a thing?

SHERLOCK

A beast indeed.

On John, contemplative. A moment later - he realises. Then looks at Sherlock.

JOHN

Her boyfriend.

SHERLOCK

Precisely.

MRS. MERRILOW

Leonardo?? That... That is impossible.

Noticing the horror in his client's eyes, Sherlock doesn't expand upon what he's deduced. He leans forward in his seat, tries to reassure her.

SHERLOCK

Have no worries, I'll see what I can do to help.

The air is bleak. Mrs. Merrilow - looks horrified, still.

And so does Sherlock. He's trying to hide it. He can't. Not from John... Dark memories have resurfaced.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/KITCHEN - EVENING**

Later that day. Sherlock, leaning against the kitchen counter. Sipping tea. Brooding. Looks sad, something's troubling him.

John emerges from the bathroom, walks into the kitchen.

As he sees Sherlock, he stops in his tracks. Before he manages to say anything, Sherlock moves from where he was standing. Walks toward his bedroom.

SHERLOCK

I'll be in my room. Goodnight, John.

John, concerned. Looks as if he's considering walking after Sherlock, but decides against it in the end.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - NIGHT**

Later. The sitting room. Lights are off.

John - on the sofa. Watching the TV, seems distracted though, his mind somewhere else.

Holding on John's face for a few moments. We hear a door creak, then footsteps patting down the corridor. John turns to look.

Through the open door - we get to see Sherlock, shambling across the kitchen. Sleepy, rubbing his eyes.

From John's POV - Noticing the TV, Sherlock freezes at the doorway. Looks at John, somewhat surprised to see him.

SHERLOCK

John. I didn't know you were awake.

Approaches John.

John, gazing up at him, profoundly worried. Sherlock's pale, looks troubled, almost upset, failing to hide it.

JOHN

Are you okay?

SHERLOCK

Why wouldn't it be? I was just... Um...

Sherlock thinks for a moment, points toward the kitchen.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

...I have an experiment to work on.

JOHN

It's half past midnight.

SHERLOCK

Science never sleeps John.

A beat. John grabs the TV remote, turns down the volume. Then looks back at Sherlock, crosses his arms.

JOHN

What kind of an experiment requires you to work at night?

SHERLOCK

The... one with the... lizard eyes?

JOHN

Ah, the one you finished two days ago?

SHERLOCK

Yes... No!

JOHN

Sherlock...

SHERLOCK

What?

A beat.

JOHN

What's wrong?

Sherlock hesitates. Lowers his eyes.

John - sits forward.

John (CONT'D)

(softly)

Look. If you don't want to tell me, then don't. The last thing I want is to make you feel pressured. I just want you to remember... You can trust me. No matter what.

SHERLOCK

I'll keep that in mind. Now, if you'll excuse me...

He turns around, begins to walk away but almost immediately comes to a halt. Like he's changed his mind.

On Sherlock's face, there's uncertainty in his eyes. He just stands there, in the middle of the room, wavering. A few moments pass, then suddenly, he turns swiftly around, blurting out -

SHERLOCK

(incoherently)

I had a nightmare.

John frowns, tilts his head as if to ask 'what?'.

Sherlock: flustered, blushing. He repeats the line, this time, at a slow pace.

SHERLOCK

I...

(lets out a small sigh)

...Had a nightmare.

He looks away, abashed, folding his arms behind back.

John, gazes at him, nods understandingly. Doesn't respond though.

Silence. Sherlock - a hint of a puzzled frown. Looks back at John.

SHERLOCK

Are you... not going to ask me if I want to talk about it?

JOHN

No. Because I know you don't and that's okay. That's not why you turned back, is it?

(A beat)

You just don't want to be alone.

SHERLOCK

Oh...

JOHN

(smiles sadly)

It's alright. I know that feeling, Sherlock.

Sherlock's eyes soften.

Silence. They look at each other for a moment, fondly. Then, John breaks the eye-contact. Takes a moment to compose himself. Feels almost embarrassing.

JOHN (CONT'D)

So, er... D'you want to... sit here with me and watch...

(glances at the TV)

...Whatever crime show I am watching?

SHERLOCK

(titters)

You know what I think about crime shows, John.

JOHN

(chuckles)

Yeah. Ludicrous, tedious. You love to complain. That's why we always end up watching them.

Sherlock looks down, smiles. His cheek turn faintly pink.

Smiling at Sherlock, John grabs the remote again, turns the volume back on.

Sherlock flops down on the sofa, next to John, throws a furtive glance at him. Smiles to himself, then shifts his attention to the TV.

On the TV. Eventually, the sounds begin to fade away...

DISSOLVE TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - NIGHT**

Later that night - still on the TV. Commercials. The show has finished.

Panning to John and Sherlock, sprawled on the sofa. They're both fast asleep now. Sherlock half-lying on John's shoulder, his arm draped over John's torso. John has his arm wrapped around Sherlock.

Holding on. John stirs, begins to wake up. He blinks to open his eyes. Frowns. Immediately realises what position he's in. Cannot move, unless he wants to alert Sherlock.

A moment later. Sherlock shifts in his sleep, snuggles closer to John. John gulps. Doesn't look uncomfortable, rather worried, what happens after Sherlock wakes up -

\- which happens as soon as the thought occurs to him. Slowly, Sherlock opens his eyes, and in an instant - he stiffens. Neither of them says a word. We hear Sherlock's breathing quickening. Eyes wide, he looks up at John.

SHERLOCK

John?

Sherlock rushes to shuffle away, staring his eyes out. Doesn't quite understand...

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

What... what just happened?

JOHN

I... don't think anything did, we just... fell asleep in each other's arms.

SHERLOCK

We... we did? Oh, God, we did.

He raises up.

JOHN

(softly)

Sherlock, I didn't... I don't mind.

Sherlock cocks his head, as if to ask 'really?' but a second later he's shaking his head as if to get rid of such thoughts.

SHERLOCK

I should go. Back to my bed... or something... I... Good night, John.

He scuttles away.

On John, gawks with his mouth open.

There's a thud, off screen - Sherlock slamming the door shut as he retreats to his bedroom.

Groaning, John falls back against the cushions. Vexed, he reaches for the remote, turns off the TV.

He stares at the ceiling, crestfallen, runs his hands down his face.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - MORNING**

Close on a pair of bare feet, descending the stairs - John.

Zoom out - John runs a hand through his hair. Looking tired, distressed, he hasn't actually slept the night before.

He walks through the sitting room, into the kitchen, when suddenly-

-freezes. Staring his eyes out.

There's very neatly prepared breakfast on the table and standing next to it-

-Sherlock - facing away, hasn't noticed John noticed.

Panning from him to a laboratory flask in the middle of the table. A single flower in it. Sherlock's staring down at it. We're watching all of this from John's POV. Sherlock picks up the flower, frowns at it, then puts it back into the flask and repeats the same process twice more before finally deciding to leave the flower in there.

On Sherlock's face - thoughtful. Then, a satisfied smile.

JOHN

(off-screen)

Did you make all of that yourself?

Sherlock stiffens. Panicking, he grabs the flower, throws it away, then quickly turns to John, as if nothing happened.

John's practically beaming.

SHERLOCK

(embarrassed)

Er, yes, I figured I owed you an apology. For what happened last night.

JOHN

You have nothing to apologise for. I told you-

He grins, approaches Sherlock.

JOHN (CONT'D)

I didn't mind.

And all at once, they're standing too close. The proximity's making the conversation slightly awkward.

SHERLOCK

I am... I am not apologising for cuddling with you... I-

(he turns red, back pedalling)

I mean, we weren't cuddling! God, we accidentally ended up tangled in a position of... um, very intimate nature, which happens sometimes, by an accident... so, what I am saying, I guess is that I shouldn't have overreacted the way I did. Yes.

He exhales, lowers his eyes, abashed.

John just smiles. Somehow, it frustrates Sherlock.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Why are you smiling?

John's smile only grows bigger. He's gazing right into Sherlock's eyes.

JOHN

Have I ever told you how much I-

A single ring thwarts John from finishing his sentence. They both flinch at the sound of John's phone buzzing somewhere off screen. The atmosphere has been irrevocably disrupted.

On John's face - grumpy.

JOHN (CONT'D)

Bloody hell, if it's Lestrade again-

He turns to walk where the sound is coming from - sitting room, coffee table. He grabs the phone, cancels the call.

JOHN

I told him we did not want that case.

On Sherlock, peeking from behind the kitchen door.

SHERLOCK

There was another break-in last night.

JOHN

(over his shoulder)

There was?

SHERLOCK

Eight heists... I'd almost consider it six at this point. Almost.

JOHN

(titters)

You want me to call back?

SHERLOCK

Do. Tell Lestrade to come tomorrow morning.

JOHN

Alright. Wait, why tomorrow?

SHERLOCK

Because we have more important things to do today.

John, tilts his head, flummoxed.

CUT TO:

**EXT. BUSY LONDON STREET - DAY**

Close on Sherlock's gloved hand. Pressing a doorbell.

Wider: Rather a busy London street. An apartment block. John and Sherlock, standing in front of one of the doors. Waiting.

John peers at Sherlock.

JOHN

What's this about?

SHERLOCK

The veiled lodger.

JOHN

The... Hold on, is that the-

SHERLOCK

Yes.

JOHN

Sherlock, we shouldn't be here. I saw what the mere deduction did to you.

SHERLOCK

This isn't about me, John. That woman needs help and I've promised it. Earlier this morning I contacted the landlady, in order to learn more about this -

(he says this with contempt)

-Leonardo. But she couldn't provide the information I seek. I must ask Ms. Ronder herself.

John, concerned, disapproving, but doesn't raise another objection.

And at that the door opens, Mrs. Merrilow emerges from inside.

MRS. MERRILOW

Oh, Mr. Holmes. Come, come in.

CUT TO:

**INT. MS. RONDER'S FLAT/HALLWAY - DAY**

Mrs. Merrilow leads Sherlock and John upstairs, then down a tight, narrow corridor. They stop in front of an old, vintage looking door.

Mrs. Merrilow knocks on the door.

MRS. MERRILOW

Ms. Ronder? Ms. Ronder, you have visitors.

From behind the door, we hear a woman's voice. Weak, apprehensive.

MS. RONDER

(off-screen)

Go away.

Sherlock approaches the door.

SHERLOCK

(gently)

Ms. Ronder, my name's Sherlock Holmes. Let us talk, please. We're here to help.

MS. RONDER

(off-screen)

I don't want to see anyone.

SHERLOCK

Just five minutes.

A beat.

SHERLOCK

(his voice quivers)

I know what he did to you. That beast. I want to see him rot in the jail as much as you, but first I must find him. You're the only one who can give us a clue. Ms. Ronder, please.

Silence. Then, a click-

-slowly, the door opens, only ever so slightly. Through the gap we see a silhouette of a woman, wearing a thin black veil. Ms. Ronder.

CUT TO:

**INT. MS. RONDER'S FLAT - DAY**

A small, once a cosy flat, but there's barely any light in the room - the curtains are closed, so it appears to be very dark and grim.

Sherlock and John are seated together on a sofa. In front of them, sitting hunched in an armchair - Ms. Ronder - looking worn out and skinny. The face behind the veil is barely visible, we notice but a few features - glassy green eyes, several large scars and bruises spread across her face.

MS. RONDER

(to Sherlock)

You said you're here to help.

SHERLOCK

Yes.

MS. RONDER

But I don't know you. You're not even supposed to know the things you do. I haven't told anyone.

SHERLOCK

You don't have to be frightened. I am a detective, Ms. Ronder.

Ms. Ronder, skeptical. Her eyes go to John.

MS. RONDER

And what about him?

SHERLOCK

John Watson, my partner. You may speak freely in his presence, he's perfectly trustworthy.

A beat on John, he throws a glance at Sherlock, then quickly, looks away again.

On Ms. Ronder. She takes a moment to make a decision.

MS. RONDER

You want me to speak? About what happened?

SHERLOCK

Only if you feel comfortable doing so.

MS. RONDER

I don't think I do.

SHERLOCK

Then tell us where to find Leonardo and we'll leave.

Ms. Ronder shivers at the mention of that name. She hesitates.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

He's not going to hurt you ever again, Ms. Ronder.

MS. RONDER

How could you know? Don't you see what he's done to my face? I am bound to forever hide from the entire world, even myself. Caged inside my own flat, like an animal...

(her voice starts to shake)

He's done so much harm, Mr. Holmes. I cannot risk him bursting through my door one day to punish me for suing him.

SHERLOCK

He won't be able to if he'll spend the rest of his life in prison.

MS. RONDER

(she shakes her head)

But I can't prove he's done it. And even if I could, nobody in this world can guarantee me safety.

SHERLOCK

I can.

MS. RONDER

But the police... They'll never-

SHERLOCK

The police plays no part in this, Ms. Ronder. Trust me, Leonardo will get what he deserves.

Silence. Ms. Ronder - she seems to be reconsidering it.

MS. RONDER

Can you really ensure it?

SHERLOCK

I swear.

A beat.

MS. RONDER

London Zoo. He's a lion's keeper.

Sherlock - rising.

SHERLOCK

Thank you.

He heads for the door, John immediately behind him.

CUT TO:

**EXT. LONDON ZOO - DAY**

Establishing shot. London Zoo. Aerial view.

On John and Sherlock, they're striding down a pathway, passing various animal exhibits. On their faces - furious, determined.

Now, shot from behind, we see them approaching the lion enclosure.

Cut to a man, that is about to enter the exhibit - tall, bulky, in his 30s - Leonardo.

Back on John and Sherlock, they exchange a look, as if to make sure the other one is having the same thoughts.

The man is still about thirty feet in front of them, when Sherlock yells after him.

SHERLOCK

Leonardo!

On Leonardo. He turns to look behind his shoulder. Frowns, confused, doesn't even move.

Finally, John and Sherlock reach the man...

SHERLOCK

John-

At that John instantly leaps forward to seize Leonardo's wrist. He twists him around and pushes him against the nearby wall.

Outraged, Leonardo tries to free himself but John's grip is too strong.

Leisurely, Sherlock walks up to him, hands in his pockets, stone cold face but beneath that mask he is seething.

SHERLOCK

Nice of you to make it so easy for us, Leonardo.

LEONARDO

Have you gone mad?! Who the hell are you?!

SHERLOCK

The man who's going to ruin your life... Oh, by the way - you're arrested. I hope it didn't fly over your head.

LEONARDO

(fuming)

What - What are you talking about??

People have begun to gather around, having a look at the scene.

Noticing this, Sherlock looks around, raises both his hands to shush the curious crowd.

SHERLOCK

It's alright, there's nothing going on here, people. Just a wild animal on the loose. We're taking care of it. You can resume walking now.

Once the majority of people disperse, he pulls a phone out of his pocket, dials a number, puts it next to his ear.

Eyes on Leonardo - a cold stare.

SHERLOCK

Mycroft? I have a favour to ask.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - EVENING**

From inside the flat, through the door - John and Sherlock, walking up the stairs.

John enters first, pulls off his coat, tosses it on his chair.

JOHN

(groans)

I could crash right here.

He flops into his chair.

Sherlock approaches from behind, smiles down at him.

SHERLOCK

It was _your_ idea to take a walk.

JOHN

(snorts)

I am not _complaining_. Both you and I needed some air, sore feet or not. Besides, I don't know about you, but I didn't feel like going straight home. After what happened earlier.

Sherlock's smile fades away, so does John's.

JOHN (CONT'D)

I do have to admit... I am glad I didn't manage to convince you to let go off that case, Sherlock... Shame we couldn't do more though.

SHERLOCK

Some things are irreversible, John. Alas, there's nothing we can do about that.

A few moments pass: John looking sadly at Sherlock. He knows he's right.

 Sighing, he has risen. As he walks past Sherlock, he reaches to gently touch his arm. It's brief, but it still makes Sherlock's brain malfunction for a second.

JOHN

Right... I am gonna go take a shower. In case you'll need me.

SHERLOCK

(blinks)

Ok...Okay.

Flashing a smile, John resumes walking.

On Sherlock, staring after him, mouth slightly open. From off, we hear a door thud.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B JOHN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT**

On John: Curled in his bed, fast asleep.

A few moments later, we hear a single beep - John's phone on the nightstand - startles him awake. Takes him a couple of seconds to wake up properly. He grabs the phone, squints at the screen, trying to read the message he's just received, evidently from Sherlock.

The text (and each next one) appears on the screen: I can't sleep.

John stares and stares, quickly types the first thing that comes to his mind: It's 3AM.

Almost immediately, another text appears on screen: I know. I am sorry.

John, typing: It's okay. You do realise we live together, right?

A pause, John sleepily blinking at the phone screen. Sherlock's message appears: Yes... And?

John smiles to himself, types: You can come to my room. If you feel lonely.

An instant response from Sherlock: Oh.

John's smile widens.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B SHERLOCK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT**

Sherlock in his bed, practically hypnotising the screen of his phone.

A message from John: A single smiley floating on the screen.

Closer on Sherlock's face. Profoundly nonplussed.

CUT TO:

**INT. JOHN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT**

From inside John's bedroom - on the door. We hear a knock, then, the door slowly opens. We can see Sherlock standing in the doorway, staring coyly at the floor.

SHERLOCK

(timid)

John?

On John, as he sits up in his bed, turns on the lamp on his nightstand.

JOHN

Come in, Sherlock. Don't stand in the doorway.

SHERLOCK

(looks around the room)

Are you sure? I don't want to bother, I just-

JOHN

It's alright. Come inside.

Sherlock purses his lips, finally steps forward, closing the door behind him.

JOHN (CONT'D)

So? What's wrong? You said you couldn't sleep.

SHERLOCK

Um, yes, I... Yes.

On John - looking at Sherlock, almost as if deducing him. He seems to understand.

JOHN

You had another nightmare, didn't you?

Sherlock, looking ashamed, but nods. He steps toward John's bed, sits down on the edge, avoiding John's gaze. Appears to be a little insecure.

John watches him, waits, then rises from the bed. He walks around the bed then sits down, next to Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

Last night... You knew I didn't want to talk about it. You know what those nightmares are about, don't you?

A beat. John gulps.

JOHN

Yes. I did make a guess.

Sherlock lets out a shaky sigh.

SHERLOCK

I've tried, John. I've tried not think of what had happened, but these memories... Every once in a while they come back to haunt me. To torture me. The more I try to suppress them, the more violent they become. It's preventing me from doing my work. I can seldom concentrate... Take the last case, for instance... All it takes is a one inconvenient word, it's like pulling a trigger and it starts a storm in my head. I've become an absolutely useless, worthless shell of a man. What even is my purpose, when I can't properly use my brain anymore?

JOHN

Sherlock... Sherlock, look at me. Please.

And so Sherlock does, surprised to find how close they're actually sitting.

There are tears starting in John's eyes. He seems to be struggling inside, as if yearning to do something but isn't sure whether he is allowed.

JOHN (CONT'D)

You are so much more than your brain. You've always been and I've always known. Sherlock, you... You have the kindest of hearts. You're caring, you're tender even though you scarcely show it. You help people who deserve to be helped and never ask for anything in return. See, these thoughts... these nightmares that invade your mind, do not define you. Don't trust anything they say, it's all lies.

Sherlock - speechless, just stares at John, completely, hopelessly infatuated.

SHERLOCK

Do you... Do you really think all... that about... me?

JOHN

And so much more.

On Sherlock, lips parted, breath quickening. Suddenly, he launches forward, wrapping his arms around John, tightly. He hides his faces in the crook of John's, exhales, tightening his grip.

John immediately hugs back, running a hand down Sherlock's back to soothe him.

JOHN (CONT'D)

It's alright. It's okay, Sherlock, You're safe with me.

SHERLOCK

(mumbling)

I know I am.

He pulls back a few inches, to look into John's eyes, but keeps his arms wrapped around him.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

It's just these nightmares that-

JOHN

No, no, please don't finish that sentence, Sherlock. I told you... I'd never hurt you. Nor I'd ever forgive anyone who would dare to lay a finger on you. You... You matter to me, more than anything.

SHERLOCK

Do I?

JOHN

Of course you do. You mean the world to me, don't you see that?

Now, Sherlock does let go of John, pulls away, blinking rapidly. Looks a little as if unable to comprehend what's happening.

John stares at him, anxiously awaiting a response of some sort, but instead of offering any, Sherlock rises instead. Walks a few steps away from the bed, then turns back to John, takes a step back toward the bed, freezes.

On John, abashed, he lowers his eyes.

JOHN (CONT'D)

Yes, you heard me right.

Sherlock - trying to make a sense out of this situation.

SHERLOCK

So... What you are saying is that...

His voice trails off.

In the meantime, John has mustered up all the courage in the world. He's risen and is now approaching Sherlock.

JOHN

What I am saying... is that I want to spend the rest of my life by your side and no matter what, Sherlock, I won't let anyone ever harm you again.

SHERLOCK

(he lowers his head, flustered)

Oh my God.

JOHN

Sherlock, I need you to look at me now, please.

Sherlock looks up at him, flushing.

John has stopped now, leaving basically no space between himself and Sherlock.

JOHN (CONT'D)

I need you to know you're loved. More than you can imagine.

On Sherlock's face, he lets out a sob, his eyes filling with tears.

SHERLOCK

(softly)

John...

Silence descends. They gaze into each other's eyes for a moment, as if trying to read each other's mind, when suddenly at the same time, they begin to lean closer, closer...

... Until they close their eyes and lock their lips in a kiss. Holding onto that moment for a few long seconds. It's very, very gentle and soft but an incredibly emotional first kiss.

John reaches to hold Sherlock's hands just as they pull back from it.

Their eyes flutter open. A split of a second-

SHERLOCK

Did we just-

JOHN

Yes, we did.

-and they're giggling, uncontrollably, but only for a moment before they start kissing again.

This time it should be a tad more needy and passionate - John grabs Sherlock by his waist and pulls him closer; Sherlock walks them closer to the bed-

\- as John's legs collide with the bed behind him, he flops down on the mattress, with Sherlock in his lap. Still kissing, hands everywhere around each other.

John grabs the hem of Sherlock's shirt, pulls it over his head, in an instant, Sherlock does the same with John's shirt, then tackles him down on the mattress.

Shot from above, waist up - John rolling over Sherlock.

They kiss for a few more moments, when suddenly Sherlock stops, breathless.

JOHN

Something's wrong? You want us to stop?

SHERLOCK

(titters)

Never.

He kisses John to prove it.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

It's just that I...

JOHN

(encouragingly)

Yes?

SHERLOCK

I... I've never actually done... this. Sex.

He lets out a sigh, slightly embarrassed.

John - appears to be surprised, but doesn't mention it.

JOHN

Oh... Well, we don't have to... you know... if you don't feel like it.

SHERLOCK

I do. I  _do_ , God, I do. I just... Wanted you to know.

John smiles.

JOHN

Alright. We have nowhere to hurry. We take it slowly, okay? Step by step.

He brushes Sherlock's hair.

Suddenly, Sherlock chuckles.

JOHN

What?

SHERLOCK

Nothing... Just... Take it slowly.

At this, John bursts into chuckles too. Leans down to kiss Sherlock.

Panning away from them... Fade to black...

FADE IN:

**EXT. LONDON STREET - MORNING**

London skyline - dawn.

Various shots of busy London streets in the early morning.

CUT TO:

**EXT. BAKER STREET - MORNING**

The Baker Street sign.

Panning to the front door. Holding on the 221B for a moment.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - MORNING**

A view of the stairs that lead up to John's bedroom.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B JOHN'S BEDROOM - MORNING**

Panning across the bedroom and over a pile of clothes scattered across the floor. Panning over the bed, to reveal-

-John on his back, sleeping, his arm wrapped around Sherlock who's lying with his head on John's chest.

Sherlock's awake and positively glowing. Smiling as he watches John's face, whilst caressing his chest with his fingers.

SHERLOCK

(whispers)

Good morning, John.

John stirs. His eyes are still closed, but there is a grin on his face. He turns his face towards Sherlock, searches for his lips with his. Kisses him, then opens his eyes.

JOHN

Mhm. Good morning.

Sherlock sighs happily.

SHERLOCK

If this is just another dream, make sure I never wake up.

JOHN

(chuckles)

No-

(kisses Sherlock)

-not a dream.

Sherlock wraps his arms around John's back, pulls him closer as they kiss. John has already climbed on the top of Sherlock, but then-

\- we hear a doorbell ring.

On John and Sherlock, still kissing. Sherlock has ignored the ring but John - his eyes fly wide open. Hastily, he rolls away from Sherlock, kicks the covers away, springs out of the bed.

JOHN

God, no, that's Lestrade.

On Sherlock, perplexed - props himself up on his elbows. From his POV - He watches John running around the room, picking up his clothes.

SHERLOCK

(frowns)

What? Lestrade? How do you know?

On John, he's already put on trousers, now is buttoning up his shirt.

JOHN

The robberies, Sherlock. Remember? We've agreed to take that case.

Sherlock huffs, rolls his eyes, flops on his back.

SHERLOCK

Dull. I suggest we pretend we're not home and stay in bed all day. We have a lot of catching up to do.

John chortles, walks over to the side of the bed where Sherlock's lying, sits on the edge of the bed.

JOHN

Trust me, I love the idea as much as you, but... Don't you think we should discuss this whole thing first before we, um...

SHERLOCK

Jump at each other again?

JOHN

(snorts)

Yes.

SHERLOCK

I don't understand. What is there to discuss?

JOHN

A lot, actually.

SHERLOCK

Alright. Give me five minutes.

JOHN

(smiles)

Good. I'll be downstairs, don't take too long. I don't want Lestrade to get suspicious.

John leans forward, kisses Sherlock's forehead, then rises up-

-leaves.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - MORNING**

On John, descending the stairs. In a hurry.

JOHN

Greg! Hi. Sorry we've kept you waiting.

Panning along with John as he enters-

-the sitting room.

There's Lestrade, standing at the fireplace. Looks frustrated, perhaps a bit disgruntled.

LESTRADE

(pettily)

Only for about six weeks.

JOHN

Yeah, sorry. The case just wasn't-

Once John approaches Lestrade, Lestrade extends his hand but instead of shaking it, John just stares for a second - stiffens, as if he's just remembered something. He flashes a very awkward smile at Lestrade and without any explanation turns on his heels, heads to the bathroom.

Confused, Lestrade drops his hand, frowning after John.

We hear water running for a few seconds.

LESTRADE

(calling)

Is everything alright? You seem-

John returns.

LESTRADE (CONT'D)

... nervous.

JOHN

Of course, all good, everything's perfectly fine. I couldn't be happier.

LESTRADE

And Sherlock? All back to normal? I haven't seen him, since... Well, you know.

JOHN

Yeah, Sherlock, he's...er... Well, um-

In the background, we see Sherlock running down the stairs, putting his jacket on. As he goes through the door, John and Lestrade's eyes go to him. A beat on John - looking Sherlock up and down. Can't help it. Lestrade is oblivious to this, still, looks flabbergasted. He narrows his eyes at Sherlock.

LESTRADE

Hey, Sherlock. All good?

SHERLOCK

Absolutely.

LESTRADE

What were you doing upstairs?

Sherlock opens his mouth before realising he doesn't actually have an answer to that.

SHERLOCK

Ah, well... I was doing-

He throws a look at John -

-panicking. And so is John. Wondering how might Sherlock possibly finish that sentence.

Drawing a long breath, Sherlock looks back to Lestrade...

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

... things. Experiments.

LESTRADE

Experiments?

SHERLOCK

Oh, why does it concern you anyway. I thought you had an enormous problem you wanted me to solve.

LESTRADE

Oh, God help me, yes, I do.

SHERLOCK

Then why are we loitering around? Off to the bank.

He makes a gesture with his hand, prompting Lestrade to go first.

Lestrade's eyes flick between him and John, but he doesn't ask questions. Doesn't want to know.

CUT TO:

**EXT. LONDON STREET - DAY**

A police car, heading through the city.

CUT TO:

**EXT. BANK - DAY**

Establishing shot of the bank.

CUT TO:

**INT. BANK VAULT - DAY**

Close up on Sherlock using his magnifying glass on the floor of the bank vault.

Wider - inside an almost an empty vault. Three policemen are gathered around John, Lestrade and-

-Sherlock, kneeling on the floor, investigating.

On John, a smirk on his face. Unbeknownst to him, Lestrade is scowling confusedly at him, but averts his eyes as soon as we hear Sherlock's triumphal cry.

LESTRADE

Did you find something?

Sherlock is scrambling up to his feet. He steps toward Lestrade and John. Lifts his hand to show them - something almost invisible he's holding in between his index finger and his thumb.

Lestrade squints.

Super fast zoom on a single red hair in Sherlock's hand.

LESTRADE

Is that...

JOHN

A hair.

SHERLOCK

A red hair. To be precise.

LESTRADE

How is that supposed to help?

Sherlock sighs. He pulls out a small evidence bag from underneath his coat, puts the hair inside, hands it to Lestrade.

SHERLOCK

It belongs to the culprit. One of them anyway.

LESTRADE

Does it? But, but how do you know?

SHERLOCK

Nobody who has an access to this vault has red hair.

LESTRADE

Sherlock, thousands of people have red hair, how are we supposed to know which one is plundering London banks?

SHERLOCK

This one, obviously, holds a massive grudge against the banks. On principle.

LESTRADE

And you figured out that how??

SHERLOCK

Fairly easily. Why do you think they're robbing one bank after another?

LESTRADE

Er... Because they want money?

SHERLOCK

That's what they want you to think. Money is not the primal goal, just a nice little bonus. If they wanted money they would choose one random bank, preferably the biggest one and take as much as they could. They wouldn't risk that much. No, they want to prove something.

LESTRADE

Like what?

SHERLOCK

That people's money are safe nowhere.

JOHN

So, who are they supposed to be? Former employees who got unjustly fired?

Sherlock smiles at John.

SHERLOCK

Most likely, yes. That was very clever of you, John.

JOHN

(bites his lip)

Thanks, I have a brilliant teacher.

Lestrade stares with his mouth wide open, hopelessly flicking his eyes between John and Sherlock, who have seemed to forgot that they are in public.

LESTRADE

Oi! Will someone, _anyone_ , please explain to me what I am supposed to do with this information?

Sherlock looks a bit embarrassed. Puts on a stone cold mask.

SHERLOCK

Ah, certainly. If I were you I'd go through the files of every single male bank employee in London. The redheads, obviously. That's where you'll find the men you're looking for. I am about ninety nine percent sure.

LESTRADE

Wha - you can't be serious?! We've been scratching our heads for months and you come and solve the case within five minutes? It doesn't even make any - Sherlock! Where are you-

Sherlock and John have begun to walk away. Smirking smugly.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - DAY**

On the stairs, as we watch Sherlock and John ascend.

JOHN

Damn, we really should have stayed in bed.

SHERLOCK

I told you, John.

JOHN

Yes, and you were right, as always.

They enter the flat. Sherlock proceeds to sit in his armchair.

SHERLOCK

No, not always.

John has sat down too.

JOHN

(chuckles)

Seriously?

SHERLOCK

Oh, yes, I have been wrong many times, John. Especially about you. For which I feel compelled to apologise.

JOHN

Don't. Dwelling upon the past is pointless, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

I suppose it is, isn't it.

(A beat)

Alright. Let's talk about sex instead.

John's eyebrows fly high. But a grin splits his face.

JOHN

What?

Sherlock looks genuinely puzzled.

SHERLOCK

You weren't talking about sex? Isn't that... What you wanted to talk about this morning?

JOHN

No, I mean, yes, of course, but it wasn't just sex that I wanted to talk about.

SHERLOCK

Hold on, you don't regret what happened last night, do you?

JOHN

What?! No! No, never, I... Ah, come here.

John stretches out his hand.

It takes Sherlock a moment to comprehend. Smiling shyly, he rises, walks toward John, takes his hand, then sits down in his lap.

John embraces him. Sherlock wraps his arms around John's shoulders.

JOHN (CONT'D)

The only thing I regret is that it didn't happen sooner... If only we didn't waste so many years dancing around each other. Maybe... maybe I should have made it more obvious that I am a...

He struggles to confess. Isn't used to talking about his feelings so openly.

JOHN (CONT'D)

That I am... bisexual.

A heavy sigh escapes John's throat, but he seems to be relieved, in a way.

SHERLOCK

Well, I've made it pretty obvious that I am gay, and it led exactly nowhere.

JOHN

You - you have?

SHERLOCK

Each time you accused me of being in love with Irene Adler. Yes. Clearly, I wasn't trying hard enough either.

JOHN

(huffs)

Don't. Remind me. of The Woman.

Sherlock chortles.

JOHN (CONT'D)

To be fair though... She was right about something.

SHERLOCK

And that is?

JOHN

We _are_ a couple.

They giggle at this, smile into a kiss.

JOHN (CONT'D)

And it's about time we start acting like it.

Sherlock tilts his head, staring at John. He opens his mouth a few times, but finds himself unable to respond.

SHERLOCK

Means we're... officially together?

JOHN

God, yes.

SHERLOCK

As in... Boyfriends?

JOHN

(smiles, nods)

Boyfriends.

Sherlock's lips begin to curve into a smile.

SHERLOCK

Oh. Does that mean we get to hold hands, cuddle and kiss... All the time?

JOHN

(grinning now)

Exactly.

Sherlock's face breaks into a huge grin.

SHERLOCK

What are we waiting for, then. Let's be boyfriends in my bedroom.

Grabbing John's hand he rises, pulls John up and, giggling, they stride toward Sherlock's room, except then-

\- Sherlock suddenly comes to a halt, turning to look back at John.

He bites his lip, coy.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

(in a hopeful voice)

Our...? Bedroom?

(A beat)

I mean, I assumed we won't be needing two anymore.

On John. Grinning, he steps toward Sherlock, closes the gap between them.

Sherlock relaxes, smiles as John brushes their noses.

JOHN

(under his breath)

Of course we won't be needing two bedrooms.

At this they both chuckle. John cups Sherlock's face, Sherlock puts his hands on John's waist, kisses him again.

Holding on them. A moment later we hear footsteps - someone climbing the stairs, then enters the room, taps at the door.

Completely oblivious to this, John and Sherlock are still kissing. Suddenly, we hear a delightful squeal coming from off screen. It's-

-Mrs. Hudson - bursting into giggles at the sight.

In an instant, John and Sherlock pull back from each other, flushing, panting, clearly embarrassed. They exchange a brief look, then look back at Mrs. Hudson, but she's already on her way out, flailing her hands and laughing joyously.

They stare after her.

JOHN

She went to tell Mrs. Turner, didn't she.

SHERLOCK

Definitely.

JOHN

Means tomorrow the entire London will now.

SHERLOCK

Highly possible.

Sherlock gives John an amused look, smirks.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

People will talk.

Chuckling, John kisses Sherlock.

(A sequence of scenes showing Sherlock and John's life as a couple. Bright, light-hearted music. A few months pass during this.)

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B SHERLOCK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT**

On John, in Sherlock's bed, leaning against the headboard. On his laptop, typing away.

Same shot - Sherlock climbs into the bed, snuggles close to him. John smiles softly at him then focuses back on the screen of his laptop.

And so does Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

Oh. You're updating your blog.

JOHN

Yup. Look at the last entry. Four months ago.

On John's laptop screen - his blog, the front page, focusing on the title of the latest entry ''The Sign of Three''.

SHERLOCK

You should delete it.

JOHN

I am considering it.

SHERLOCK

Good. Now, show me what you've written so far. I want to see the new ones.

JOHN

What. You're interested?

SHERLOCK

Of course I am.

John clicks to switch between the tabs.

In an instant, Sherlock frowns at the screen.

SHERLOCK

'The red headed gang'? I thought we'd agreed on my alternative?

JOHN

(smiles)

I am not giving it that title, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

It's original.

John stops typing, looks at Sherlock. Smiling, still.

JOHN

The Evil Weasley Twins? No.

Sherlock pouts, but it very quickly fades away when John leans to kiss the top of his head.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/KITCHEN - DAY**

It's Christmas - fairly lights hanging from walls and-

-close on a mistletoe over the doorway between the sitting room and the kitchen.

Panning from it to Sherlock underneath it, waiting with his arms folded behind his back.

John shows up, his eyes going to the mistletoe. He giggles.

JOHN

Seriously?

SHERLOCK

Mrs. Hudson put it up there.

JOHN

Mrs. Hudson, sure.

John walks over to Sherlock, grabs him, kisses him.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - DAY**

(We hear the sound of a shower) On the bathroom door and Sherlock in front of it, knocking.

SHERLOCK

Can I join you?

John's voice comes from behind the door-

JOHN

Come in.

Sherlock smirks. Enters.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/BATHROOM - DAY**

On Sherlock as he walks in, closes the door behind him. Biting his lip, he steps forward, begins to unbutton his shirt.

Thick steam fills the room, serving as a transition effect.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/KITCHEN - DAY**

Sherlock looking through the microscope.

Wider: John passing behind him, buttoning up his shirt. Noticing what Sherlock's doing he frowns.

JOHN

What on earth are you doing here? We're running late.

Sherlock doesn't move. Doesn't even throw a glance at John. Completely focused.

SHERLOCK

Late for what?

JOHN

Christ, I can't believe you forgot.

(teasingly)

We really need to stop having sex when we're in the middle of a case. It distracts us.

John has approached Sherlock, but Sherlock, knowing John doesn't really mean it, keeps his eyes fixed on the experiment.

SHERLOCK

I am very much grateful for such a distraction. In fact, I have a much better idea - we must stop taking boring cases.

JOHN

(brushes the nape of Sherlock's neck)

Come now, love, Lestrade's counting on us. He's at his wit's end.

SHERLOCK

Let's be real, John. He's always at his wit's end.

JOHN

Sherlock, please.

SHERLOCK

(sighs)

Alright, alright, I am coming.

He's risen, making a mock-serious sad face.

JOHN

(chortles)

Oh, no, don't give me puppy eyes. Just a quick stop at Scotland Yard and we're back home. It's gonna be fine.

CUT TO:

**INT. SCOTLAND YARD - DAY**

John and Sherlock at Scotland Yard, standing a few feet away from police men that are discussing an evidently boring case. Neither of them seems to be particularly interested in what is being talked about.

John looks sidelong at Sherlock - a double take.

(They talk in whispers.)

JOHN

What the bloody hell is that on your neck, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

A love bite, John. You should know, you made it.

JOHN

Shit. Down in the hallway? Before we left?

SHERLOCK

Yup.

JOHN

...Shit.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET - EVENING**

Close up on a bag of frozen human fingers being dropped on the kitchen counter.

On John, standing with his arms crossed. Unamused.

JOHN

How many times, Sherlock. A fridge is a place where you store food, not body parts.

SHERLOCK

Hm. And isn't kitchen supposed to be a place where you eat?

JOHN

...Yes.

SHERLOCK

(cheeky)

Funny. Then why did we have sex on the counter last morning?

John bites his lip, tries hard not to grin.

JOHN

(playfully)

Shut up.

SHERLOCK

Make me.

A second later John's running a hand up Sherlock's bare thigh, rolling up his gown, then lifts him up and puts him on the kitchen table. Several flasks, pipes and glasses fall on the floor, shattering into pieces.

SHERLOCK

Blue bottle. You can ignore it.

John throws a look at the floor but Sherlock pulls him into a kiss instead.

Panning away from them....

(Music fades out)

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B SHERLOCK'S BEDROOM - MORNING**

John and Sherlock, sound asleep in bed. John's embracing Sherlock from behind.

A few seconds later - John's phone starts to buzz, immediately waking him up. Sherlock just stirs, sleeps on.

Keeping his eyes closed, John reaches behind himself, gropes in the air, searching for his phone on the nightstand, grabs it.

He looks at the screen, frowning deeply.

Close on the screen - the same number that has been bothering for the past few months.

He scowls at it, checks if Sherlock is still sleeping. Then very carefully, drags his arm from underneath Sherlock, climbs out of the bed.

Quietly, John leaves the room.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - MORNING**

John, walking down the hallway. Once in the sitting room, he puts the phone next to his ear. He's keeping his voice down, a tad anxious.

JOHN

Hello?

Silence.

JOHN (CONT'D)

Who's there??

Silence.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(agitated)

Look, whoever you are, leave us-

His voice trails off.

There's robotic-like screeching coming from the other side then after a few seconds, a distorted, creepy version of a nursery rhyme plays.

John turns white as a sheet.

♫ Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb... ♫

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

Late morning. On Mrs. Hudson, seated in John's chair. Cheerful.

MRS. HUDSON

So. Tell me everything.

Facing her - Sherlock, sitting in his armchair, sipping tea.

SHERLOCK

Contrary to popular belief, Mrs. Hudson, I do not know everything. You have to be more precise. What are you talking about?

MRS. HUDSON

Why, you and John, of course. You've been together for months.

SHERLOCK

Yes. And?

MRS. HUDSON

Aren't you dying to share funny anecdotes with me?

A beat.

SHERLOCK

No. I am really not.

MRS. HUDSON

Oh, Sherlock, if you want to hide from me so much, then you shouldn't be so loud all the time.

SHERLOCK

(profoundly embarrassed)

I see you're not using the headphones I got you for Christmas, are you? John and I would appreciate that.

(A beat)

Speaking of John... Where is he? I found the be- the flat empty when I woke up.

He puts the mug away, pulls out the phone from his pocket. Acting nonchalantly, but in fact, he's trying to conceal how worried he's getting.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

I've sent about 60 texts. He's responded to none so far.

MRS. HUDSON

Oh, I almost forgot. He must have got a very important call because he stormed out of the flat and let me tell you, Sherlock, he looked very distressed.

SHERLOCK

What?! When?

MRS. HUDSON

About two hours ago. All he told me was to let you sleep. He said he'd be back before you wake up.

SHERLOCK

For God's sake, and you're telling me just now??

MRS. HUDSON

It's been just a few hours, Sherlock, I am sure he's fine.

SHERLOCK

Oh, you're sure. Fantastic. You don't even know who called, how can you be so sure??

Frantically typing another message, Sherlock springs from his chair, begins to nervously pace around the room.

The text he's sent pops out on the screen: Where are you?

A beat. He types another one: Please tell me it has nothing to do with... Her.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

Later. Sherlock, alone now, still pacing around the room, clutching the phone in his hand.

Mrs. Hudson appears, peeks from behind the door. She's also looking concerned now.

MRS. HUDSON

Has he called yet?

SHERLOCK

(comes to a halt)

No, not a single call, nor a message, nothing.

MRS. HUDSON

Oh, dear.

She turns to leave.

At that exact moment, Sherlock's phone rings in his hand. In an instant, he answers it.

SHERLOCK

John? John, is that you? Tell me you'll alright... I was... I was getting worried.

CUT TO:

**INT. A DARK ROOM -DAY**

A small darkened room, hard to spot any details. Standing there in the shadows - Mary Morstan. On her phone. Stone cold face.

MARY

How cute.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

Sherlock - utterly pale, astonished, freezing.

MARY (V.O.)

You didn't think I'd simply disappear and let you live your life, did you?

SHERLOCK

Where's John?

MARY (V.O.)

Stop whining. Just listen. I have a little message for you.

Sherlock gulps.

INTERCUT - Mary on her phone.

MARY

I paid you a visit the other day. You and John must have been too busy to notice...

SHERLOCK (V.O.)

You-

MARY

(smirks)

If I were you, I wouldn't feel safe anywhere, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK (V.O.)

What do you want?

MARY

What do I want? I want to... Apologise. I want to apologise for doing such a crappy job at shooting you. I am sorry, I really am. I am sorry you didn't bleed right there at the spot.

INTERCUT - Sherlock, distraught.

MARY (V.O.)

On the bright side, I might as well try again. This time, however... This time I'll make sure it hurts...

(coldly)

I'll take everything from you, Sherlock, do you understand? It's your fault that John has learnt the truth about me. He's left me, just because of you.

INTERCUT

MARY

But oh, if you think I'll let you have him, you're terribly mistaken. I will crush and tear your happiness apart, right in front of your very eyes. Have you figured it out yet? Alive or dead, you can't have your John back...

INTERCUT - Sherlock, scowling, terrified.

MARY (V.O.)

Remember what Jimmy said at the pool, Sherlock: I will burn the heart out of you... And both you and I know that your heart has only one reason to beat.

The call has been ended.

Sherlock stands frozen for a few more seconds. The phone still next to his ear, trembling in his hand.

Holding on Sherlock's face, we hear footsteps - Mrs. Hudson has returned to the room.

MRS. HUDSON

(concerned)

Sherlock? Sherlock, what happened.

On Sherlock, he blinks rapidly, as if in some sort of a trance, trying to think of what to do.

MRS. HUDSON

(off screen)

You're scaring me.

Sherlock swallows, ignoring her. Suddenly, his eyes widen.

SHERLOCK

(whispers)

Moriarty.

MRS. HUDSON

What??

SHERLOCK

It always comes back to Moriarty.

Promptly, he strides toward the door, grabs his coat from the hanger.

On Mrs. Hudson, bewildered.

MRS. HUDSON

Sherlock... what are you doing?!

On Sherlock - in the doorway, putting his coat on.

SHERLOCK

There's no time to explain Mrs. Hudson. I know where John is.

MRS. HUDSON

I don't understand.

SHERLOCK

Don't you worry. I won't let anyone hurt him, I swear.

He dashes through the door... and he's gone.

CUT TO:

**INT. POOL CORRIDOR - DAY**

John walking down a dark corridor, significantly frustrated.

He walks into -

CUT TO:

**INT. POOL - DAY**

The pool room, known from THE GREAT GAME. Dim lights, the water seems to be almost glowing in the dark. John comes to a halt, stares at the the swimming pool for a moment, as if contemplating, then looks around.

He shakes his head, sighs. Raises his voice.

JOHN

Alright, Mary, stop hiding in the shadows and come out. I am tired of playing your sick games.

There's a sound of footsteps approaching.

On John, narrows his eyes. There seems to be a movement on the far side of the room.

Suddenly, a woman emerges from the shadows, then stops. We still see but a silhouette of her. Her voice echoes.

MARY

This is not a game, John.

On John, there is a frown on his face. Infuriated.

JOHN

You said you wanted to talk. You said you'd hurt Sherlock if I didn't come and listen, but-

(takes a step forward)

You're not talking and I am beginning to lose my patience. Why am I here, hm? Here, of all places...

Silence. Mary steps into the light, revealing her face. Tilts her head like a reptile, smirks.

MARY

And at that moment, out stepped Moriarty.

JOHN

(scowls)

That's... from my blog.

MARY

Good. You remember. The Great Game you called it.

JOHN

What does that have to do with you?

MARY

Why, I was a part of it.

JOHN

What the hell are you-

John - his eyes widen. He realises.

JOHN (CONT'D)

Christ. You... You were here that night. You were one of them. One of Moriarty's snipers...

Mary - stone cold face.

John fumes, shakes his head in disbelief. He takes a moment, trying to compose himself but failing. Turns back to look at Mary, shooting daggers at her.

JOHN (CONT'D)

You didn't end up working at my clinic by an accident, did you? That wasn't your job. You were never supposed to be a nurse. You were just keeping an eye... on me.

MARY

(shrugs)

That was the plan. But plans change, John. I had not expected to fall in love, but I did and I... I wanted to quit, I swear. Magnussen was supposed to be my last kill. He knew too much. All I wanted, was to free myself from my past and have a family.

JOHN

A family? You, me and... the child you lied about?

John sniffs.

Mary, frowns, but she ignores John's remark.

MARY

(coldly)

This is all Sherlock's fault. For the first time in my life I had an opportunity to lead a normal life. With you. But no. Sherlock must have ruined everything. He always does that. Always the same old annoying pest.

John - clenches his left hand. Full of suppressed rage.

JOHN

Right... I'll ask just once more... What is the point of this bloody charade, hm?

MARY

I thought it was obvious. I want Sherlock to pay. I lured you out, because I wanted him to worry about you. Funny, you'd come only if I threatened him.

(derisively)

What a pair you two make.

JOHN

What has Sherlock done to you? Besides wanting to help.

MARY

I didn't ask for his help.

JOHN

So you decided to murder him instead. Fantastic.

MARY

I had no choice. Will you not give me a chance to explain?

JOHN

Give you a chance? You harmed Sherlock, you've lied to me about who you were. You faked pregnancy, for God's sake, you worked for the man who'd made Sherlock fake his death... What do you expect from me? Forgiveness?

MARY

(shrugs)

Sherlock had lied to you too... you forgave _him_.

JOHN

He lied to protect me. You lied to protect yourself.

Mary clenches her jaw.

MARY

I see... You chose him. You chose him over me.

JOHN

Of course I chose him. And I hate myself for not doing it the moment he returned... I should have. Because I love him, I've always loved him. I love Sherlock Holmes, is that what you wanted to hear?

On Mary's disapproving face. She's seething.

A loud thud echoes from somewhere behind Mary, as if door closing.

Footsteps, then suddenly, a tall figure appears behind her.

John stares, Mary doesn't even turn to look at the person who's now stepped from the darkness, turning out to be-

-Sherlock Holmes.

Hands in his pockets, he comes to a halt.

SHERLOCK

Hello, Mary.

John - a small mischievous smile crosses his face.

On Sherlock's face.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

(harshly)

Do me a favour and step away from my boyfriend.

Slowly, Mary turns to look at Sherlock. She has sort of a mock-surprised expression on her face.

MARY

Sherlock... You found us. I'd say I am impressed but-

SHERLOCK

You should be. I bet you didn't expect to see me here.

MARY

(rolls her eyes)

Oh, you're such an idiot. I knew exactly what you were going to do. I have you right where I wanted.

SHERLOCK

Okay, here's the thing... I don't care what you want. Let John walk away and we both might as well forget about this little incident.

MARY

You don't understand, do you? Neither of you is going to leave. It's time you realise that if I can't have John, nobody's going to have him. Not least you.

SHERLOCK

I thought you were an assassin. Cold-hearted, calculating machine, never letting the emotions rule your mind.

MARY

That was before it got personal.

In an instant, Mary pulls out her gun from under her coat, aims at Sherlock.

On Sherlock - he throws a concerned glance at John, then back at Mary. Looks nervous now.

On Mary's face - cold, determined. Holding on, there's a sound of cocking a gun, except... It's not Mary's.

She turns her head ever so slightly.

John, perfectly steady, pointing his gun right at Mary.

JOHN

If I were you, I'd put that gun down.

Mary smirks. Her eyes are on Sherlock, but she's addressing her words to John.

MARY

Calm down John. I am going to spare you the sight of your boyfriend writhing in agony when I paint these walls with his blood.

(to Sherlock)

Sadly, I can't promise the same to you, Sherlock.

Sherlock gulps, chilled to the bone. As if sensing impending disaster.

Mary's hand begins to tremble slightly.

MARY (CONT'D)

I told you. I'll take everything from you, Sherlock. I'll make you suffer. I want to see, your face wither... Whatever the cost.

She huffs, turns to face John, cocks her gun...

MARY (CONT'D)

Terribly sorry, John...

She aims at John, her finger on the trigger.

SHERLOCK

NO!!!

At once, Sherlock darts forward, attempts to push Mary away, but too late. The bullet was fired...

Dead silence. On Sherlock, panting, shocked. His eyes go to-

-Mary's body, lying on the floor next to his feet, unconscious, close to dead, bleeding wound in her chest.

Sherlock stands haunched above her. He realises - John must have shot first... John. Sherlock's eyes, full of terror, go back to John-

-lying few feet from him, grasping for air. Underneath him, a small pool of blood.

SHERLOCK

No. No...

Sherlock staggers, falls to his kneels beside John's body, takes him into his arms.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

No, no, no, John, no. Stay with me, please.

John's panting, blinking weakly at Sherlock.

Sherlock reaches to stroke John's cheek.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Look at me, I am here, I am here with you, you'll be okay, I promise.

From John's POV, looking up at Sherlock. His eyes - closing slowly.

On Sherlock's face again, turns white as sheet.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

No, no, don't close your eyes. Look at me, love, please...

From John's POV... His eyes flutter shut.

Darkness. We hear but Sherlock's terrified voice echoing.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

(off-screen)

John. John... I love you too... I love you.

FADE IN:

**EXT. HOSPITAL -NIGHT**

Establishing shot - the hospital.

CUT TO:

**INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR/JOHN'S WARD - MORNING**

Sherlock, pacing up and down the hospital corridor outside a private ward. John's ward. He's fiddling with his own fingers, looks almost close to a panic attack.

A female voice, calls his name.

NURSE BARTON

Mr. Holmes?

Abruptly, Sherlock stops mid-step, turns to look.

SHERLOCK

Yes?

NURSE BARTON

(smiles)

It's alright. You may see him now.

SHERLOCK

Oh...

Sherlock takes a deep breath, a big sigh of relief. He nods toward the nurse, heads for the door that lead to John's ward.

In the doorway he freezes, peers inside. A gentle knock on the door.

SHERLOCK

John?

John's ward. On John, half-lying in the hospital bed. As he notices Sherlock, he grins, sits up.

JOHN

Hey, Sherlock. Come in, come in.

Sherlock - he walks in, a little warily, as if he's afraid of being unwelcome.

He walks over to John's bed, folds his arms behind his back. His face says it all - he feels guilty, heart breaking at the sight of John in a hospital bed.

SHERLOCK

(softly)

How are you feeling?

JOHN

(smiles)

Better... Now that you're here.

(smile drops)

Um... What happened to-

SHERLOCK

She's survived. But don't worry she's not here. Mycroft's going to take care of it. Once and for all.

JOHN

Good.

SHERLOCK

Right... What about your leg?

JOHN

Hurts. Thank God I got out with a mere scratch... And you? You're okay, right?

SHERLOCK

How... how can I possibly be okay when you got shot? And it's all _my_ fault... There... John, there was blood everywhere... I-

JOHN

Sherlock, Sherlock, it's fine, come here, it's over-

John stretches out his hand. Sherlock takes it.

JOHN (CONT'D)

I was _just_  scratched.

SHERLOCK

Still my fault.

JOHN

No,  _not_  your fault. Mary pulled the trigger, not you. If anything... you saved my life.

SHERLOCK

Me? I didn't do anything.

JOHN

You attempted to stop her.

SHERLOCK

Attempted, yes. It's not humanly possible to catch a bullet, John.

JOHN

But you tried anyway.

SHERLOCK

Well... yes. Because I thought... I was terrified. I still am. I thought I... I thought I was going to lose you.

John strokes the back of Sherlock's hand with his thumb.

JOHN

You're never going to lose me, I swear.

Sherlock smiles at John. He wavers for a moment, as if considering something. His face turns a bit more serious.

SHERLOCK

John, last night. I... I might have said something I had been saving for a more pleasant occasion. I just wanted to assure you... I meant it.

JOHN

(smiles sadly)

Me too. I... Actually, I've been preparing to tell you for a very long time. I wanted the moment to be special... Well, it certainly didn't go the way I had imagined, but that doesn't make the words any less true, Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

(softly)

I know. It's always been true.

Sherlock takes a shaky breath, carefully, he sits down on the edge of the bed, John's hand still in his.

Sherlock

I love you, John.

John's lips spread into the soppiest smile.

JOHN

I love you, Sherlock.

They're gazing at each other then suddenly, both of them burst into giddy giggles. Blushing.

And they're still giggling moments later, even when Sherlock leans in a for a kiss. John grabs his neck, pulls him closer.

After a few seconds, Sherlock pulls away, only an inch just so he can speak.

SHERLOCK

(mumbles)

I am staying here.

John kisses him again.

JOHN

No objection whatsoever.

SHERLOCK

(grins)

I was hoping you'd say that.

Sherlock lies down next to John. It's a small bed, so he has to cling to him.

John's eyes momentarily widen in confusion then he bursts into chuckles again.

JOHN

What are you doing? Isn't this forbidden?

SHERLOCK

I'd love to see anyone try to stop me.

Right on cue, Dr. Mason appears in the doorway. Gives Sherlock a look.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Ah, Dr. Mason.

Embarrassed, Sherlock leaps from the bed.

DR. MASON

(smiles at John)

I am glad to see you're doing fine, Dr. Watson.

SHERLOCK

Does that mean he can go home?

DR. MASON

Not yet, I am afraid. The injury might not been severe, but he definitely should stay the night. Just in case.

SHERLOCK

Absolutely. Better not neglect anything... That being said, I hope you don't mind me staying the night as well. Shall you protest, I might as well chain myself to John's bed.

Dr.Mason looks as if she does want to protest but decides against it. Smiling, she shakes her head. What a couple they are.

She turns to walk away. Pauses in the doorway, turns to look at Sherlock and John.

DR. MASON

I was right, wasn't I?

John - puzzled.

Sherlock smiles knowingly.

SHERLOCK

So was I.

DR. MASON

Ah... yes. I suppose I owe you a word of thanks.

SHERLOCK

Don't mention it. Just say hi to Nurse Barton for me.

She throws another smile and she's gone...

JOHN

What was that about?

Sherlock turns to look at John.

SHERLOCK

Isn't it nice, making people happy?

John doesn't seem to be any wiser, but chuckles anyway.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Anything I can do to make _you_  happy, John?

JOHN

You're doing that constantly.

Blushing, Sherlock climbs back to the small bed. Clings to John, places his head on John's chest.

SHERLOCK

I'd like to do more... What if I just... retired.

JOHN

What? Retired??

SHERLOCK

Yes. No more crime-solving. No more people pointing their guns at you. We can buy a cottage somewhere in the country, have a dog, perhaps. Lead a mundane, ordinary life. I could keep bees, you could write a book.

JOHN

But you love your work!

Sherlock tilts his head up to look John in the eyes.

SHERLOCK

I love you more.

A beat. John smiles. Besotted.

JOHN

Wouldn't you miss it? The thrill, the action. I know I would. Solving crimes is what we do, it's our life, Sherlock. We can't simply leave it behind and hide away in a forest. You'd be bored within five minutes.

SHERLOCK

Hm. A valid point.

JOHN

(chuckles)

Do save your plan for when we're 70 and too feeble to chase people across the city.

SHERLOCK

Fine...

(A beat)

Can we at least have a dog?

JOHN

I'd love to. One day.

SHERLOCK

I take that as a yes.

John laughs, pecks Sherlock's temple.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - MORNING**

The next day.

Through the door, Sherlock is leading John inside the flat. John's limping a little.

SHERLOCK

Careful.

JOHN

Sherlock, you don't have to-

Ignoring this, Sherlock prompts John to stop.

SHERLOCK

Alright. Now, stay here and hold on a second.

JOHN

What? Why?

SHERLOCK

And close your eyes.

JOHN

I am getting scared.

SHERLOCK

John. Please.

JOHN

...Okay.

Sherlock has left John in the doorway. Holding on John, eyes closed.

A few seconds pass before Sherlock walks into the frame.

SHERLOCK

And... Open.

And so John does. We still don't see what he's looking at but his reaction speaks for itself - eyes wide, genuine surprise.

JOHN

Sherlock. What is... This.

On Sherlock and-

-there is a dog sitting next to his leg. A bloodhound.

SHERLOCK

John, meet Bonnie. Bonnie, John.

JOHN

Alright but what is she doing here?

SHERLOCK

It's a gift.

JOHN

For me?

SHERLOCK

Obviously. Happy?

John doesn't know. He takes a step forward, sits on the chair at the desk.

JOHN

Is that... a bloodhound?

SHERLOCK

Why, yes. I know what you're thinking, but I've always liked bloodhounds. Long before the incident we've agreed to never speak of again.

JOHN

Um. I...I know you wanted to surprise me, love. But... are you sure about this?

Sherlock looks deeply disappointed. He sits on the chair opposite John.

SHERLOCK

You said you'd love to have a dog.

JOHN

Yes. One day. Sherlock.

SHERLOCK

You're mad.

JOHN

I am not mad. I am just afraid you didn't think this through.

SHERLOCK

Does that mean we can't keep her?

JOHN

No. I mean, I don't... that's not what I wanted to...um-

Sherlock - he might as well cry.

John just can't say no to that face.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(sighs)

Of course we can keep her.

Sherlock's eyes light up.

John looks at the dog, then back at Sherlock.

JOHN (CONT'D)

We're not letting her sleep in the bedroom, though.

SHERLOCK

Of course we're not. She's going to take your old bedroom.

JOHN

She's going to what?

SHERLOCK

Yeah, I did want to turn the room into a lab, but-

JOHN

Alright, she can take it.

Sherlock smirks, leans over the table, kisses John.

Once John pulls back-

JOHN (CONT'D)

(murmurs)

You do realise I owe you a surprise now, don't you?

SHERLOCK

Oh. Should I start getting worried?

JOHN

Mhm. I might as well think of something.

They smile into another kiss.

FADE IN:

**EXT. LONDON - DAY**

TIMELAPSE - London skyline. Suggesting we're jumping fast forward.

**INT. MRS. HUDSON'S KITCHEN - DAY**

Several weeks later.

John sitting at the table in Mrs. Hudson's kitchen. She's put a cup of tea in front of him but he doesn't even touch it.

MRS. HUDSON

I swear, if you want me to babysit that dog of yours again, John-

JOHN

That happened just once and no, nothing of that sort. Mrs. Hudson, can you sit down here for a minute? I need to tell you something.

Mrs. Hudson sits opposite him. Listens.

John takes a deep breath. As if to brace himself.

A beat.

JOHN

I am going to propose to Sherlock tonight.

MRS. HUDSON

(grins)

Oh, really?

JOHN

Yes. I plan to take him somewhere nice, somewhere special. I hope he'll say yes.

MRS. HUDSON

Oh, John, don't be silly. Of course he will. He'll be ecstatic to marry you. Remember how excited he was to plan your first wedding? And he wasn't even the one you were getting married to!

JOHN

Um... Can we not...

MRS. HUDSON

The key is to make the proposal perfect. Don't make the moment too romantic, that could ruin it, John. When I was proposed to, I-

On John. Sighs. Really doesn't want to hear any of that.

JOHN

Alright, I am sure your story is very entertaining, Mrs. Hudson, but I have to go. Right now. Proposal, remember?

He rises. Begins to walk away, staggering a little as he does.

Mrs. Hudson notices this, giggles.

MRS. HUDSON

You're walking funny.

JOHN

(groans)

You really don't want to hear why.

CUT TO:

**INT.ANGELO'S - EVENING**

Angelo's restaurant, from A STUDY IN PINK. Sherlock and John seated at a table. Enjoying a romantic dinner - italian, two glasses of wine, candle burning in between them.

John's gazing at Sherlock, enamoured, but he looks a bit nervous too. He's got something on his mind.

JOHN

What's gotten into you? I've never seen you eat this much.

Sherlock bites down on his lip.

SHERLOCK

I can imagine a few other things I could eat tonight.

John almost chokes on the wine he's just taken a sip of.

JOHN

(titters)

Christ, Sherlock, not in public, please.

SHERLOCK

Why not? I am pretty sure that nobody understood that joke.

JOHN

Well, I wouldn't be that sure, but anyway... Er, I wanted to talk about a bit more serious things.

He seems to be very anxious now.

SHERLOCK

Oh. Okay. Do go on.

JOHN

Do... Sherlock, do you remember the first time we were here?

SHERLOCK

...Yes. Yes, of course I do.

JOHN

And... Do you remember what you said to me?

SHERLOCK

I have an exceptional memory, yes. Each and every word.

JOHN

I am referring to one very specific sentence.... You said you were married to your work.

Sherlock reaches across the table, takes John's hand.

SHERLOCK

John. Both you and know that that is no longer true and hasn't been for a long time.

JOHN

(titters)

Funny you say that, because I've been wondering. If by any chance, you'd like to... get married... again.

Silence. Sherlock stares. Perplexed.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(sighs)

Jesus, what am I saying. Screw this.

John reaches into the pocket of his jacket, takes a small black box out of it. Opens it, puts it on the table.

Inside there's a simple but beautiful silver ring.

Sherlock's mouth falls open.

JOHN

Sherlock, will you marry me?

Sherlock stares and stares. Blinks once. Twice. Dumbfounded.

John narrows his eyes. Getting beyond anxious now.

JOHN (CONT'D)

Sherlock? Sherlock, love, it's been like three minutes. Say something, please.

Suddenly, Sherlock reaches for his glass of wine, throws it in his face.

JOHN

...Is that... Yes... Or no?

A beat. Sherlock breathing hard, as if in shock and then suddenly-

-a huge beaming grin on his face. He completely loses it.

SHERLOCK

Yes, yes! God, yes, it's a yes. Of course I'll marry you. I'd marry you this instant if I could.

(his eyes go wide)

Hold on, what a brilliant idea, we must start preparing the wedding. Right. Now.

JOHN

Wait. Right now? As in... Right NOW??

Sherlock grabs both of John's hands, lifts them to his lips, kisses his knuckles.

SHERLOCK

As soon as you put the ring on my finger, naturally.

He holds out his left hand.

A beat. Then finally, John perceives, hurries to put the engagement ring on Sherlock's left ring finger. His hands are shaking a little, it's a huge moment.

His eyes meet Sherlock's. They're giggling now, pulling each other into a sloppy over-the-table kiss. But it doesn't last for too long because Sherlock - overexcited he is - is already grabbing John's hand again. Hand in hand, they burst out of the restaurant.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

(A short sequence. Wedding preparations driven by a happy, cheerful music)

Sherlock, circling around the sitting room,checking his notepad. John is sitting in his armchair, on his laptop.

SHERLOCK

Flowers?

JOHN

Green carnations?

SHERLOCK

Excellent choice. What else?

Seeing that John's struggling to think of any other flower-

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

Alright. Gardenia and Hydrangea it is. Cake?

JOHN

We've agreed on three floors of pure chocolate delight with a perfectly appropriate rainbow frosting.

Sherlock gives John an amused look.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(chortles)

It's how _you've_  described it... And Mrs.Hudson has promised to bake cupcakes.

SHERLOCK

Suits?

JOHN

We're in for a fitting tomorrow.

SHERLOCK

Don't forget about a bow tie for Bonnie.

A beat on Bonnie, lying on the sofa. She tilts her head, makes a little whine.

SHERLOCK (CONT'D)

(off-screen)

Music?

JOHN

With all due respect, the violinists you've recommended were awful.

SHERLOCK

Were they?

JOHN

Compared to you. Definitely.

SHERLOCK

Are you trying to make me blush?

JOHN

Yup, and it's working.

SHERLOCK

(flustered)

Focus, John. Wedding bands?

JOHN

Should arrive within three days. With our names engraved into them.

SHERLOCK

(smiles)

Fantastic.

CUT TO:

**INT. 221B BAKER STREET/SITTING ROOM - DAY**

Lestrade and Sherlock, sitting at the desk - facing each other.

LESTRADE

Me? You want me to be your best man? I...I expected to be asked by John.

SHERLOCK

John has already picked Major Sholto. Now, it's important to remember - make your speech short and tell no jokes. Here, I've made a list of duties for you-

Sherlock tears page out of his notebook, hands it to a very bewildered Lestrade.

CUT TO:

**INT. TAILOR'S - DAY**

From above - John and Sherlock, each inside their own fitting room. Fixing their wedding suits.

Closer on John - looking at his own reflection, adjusting his collar. He smiles - a sidelong glance at the wall on his left.

JOHN

You're beautiful.

On Sherlock, in the adjoined dressing room, buttoning up his jacket.

SHERLOCK

(snorts)

You don't even see me.

JOHN

You always are.

SHERLOCK

You should have a look. Just to make sure.

JOHN

Nope. Saving that until the wedding. It's a tradition, remember?

Silence. Sherlock pouts.

Knowing this, John smirks.

JOHN

Sherlock?

SHERLOCK

Yes?

JOHN

You're still beautiful. Even when you're pouting.

Sherlock's reflection in the mirror - smiling.

CUT TO:

**EXT. CHURCH - DAY**

A beautiful, sunny spring day, birds chirping - a small Gothic church in the frame.

CUT TO:

**INT. CHURCH - DAY**

Wide - inside of the church. Simply, but beautifully decorated in white, purple and blue.

Holding on for a few moments. We see several guests seated on both sides of the aisle. By the altar - the Vicar and John and Sherlock's best men - Lestrade. Major Sholto.

At once, we hear a door open. Organ plays. The guests all stand up, turning to look-

\- on the giant wooden door, wide open. Entering the chapel-

\- John, walking arm in arm with Sherlock's mum, up the aisle. Right beside them - Sherlock, arm in arm with his father. Beaming with joy.

As they reach the altar, Sherlock's mum turns to John, kisses his cheeks, then turns to Sherlock, does the same.

Smiling, Sherlock's father pats their backs, then both he and Sherlock's mum step aside, take a seat in the front row.

VICAR

Thank you and welcome, dear friends. You may take a seat.

The guests sit down.

Finally, John and Sherlock approach each other - gleaming eyes, exhilarated.

The vicar now gives an introduction speech.

VICAR

We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of two remarkable human beings. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Cut to the guests, right side, front row - Sherlock's mother and father, smiling proudly.

Back on the vicar.

VICAR (CONT'D)

When I look at these two men in front of me, I see pure, infinite love. I see two souls, old and eternal as the love itself, whose bond is stronger than any force of the nature, two souls that never have and never will exist without each other. There is no doubt in my mind, these two men, have been brought together by fate-

Left side of the chapel, front row - on Mike Stamford, smiles and nods.

VICAR (CONT'D)

-not once, but many times in the past. But not until now, have they been allowed to seal their love. And we all are very grateful for being able to witness it.

On the vicar.

VICAR (CONT'D)

Sherlock and John... You've asked me to make the introduction quick-

On Molly, seated next to Sherlock's mum, she and the rest of the guests laugh.

VICAR (CONT'D)

-So now, if you will, I ask you to say your wedding vows.

Sherlock, takes a deep breath, takes both of John's hands into his.

He throws an anxious glance at the audience, then looks back at John.

John, gives an encouraging nod.

SHERLOCK

John. I've spent about 37 hours writing my wedding vow, only to realise that reciting a 59 pages long essay might not be the brightest idea, so... um... let me say... The most important thing.

A beat. Another deep breath.

SHERLOCK

John. There was a time when I thought I was unworthy of being loved. But then something happened. You. You have walked into my life and you saved it. And ever since that moment, you've loved, trusted and supported me, unconditionally... Do you... Do you remember the very first words I have ever said to you? Allow me to repeat them: Thank you. Thank you for being my home, my light, my compass. Thank you for being there for me through good and bad. I swear to you, John, my love, I will always be there for you too. I love you.

On John, his lips are trembling, tears begin to form in his eyes. He smiles in spite of it, but his voice is hoarse and shaking due to overwhelming emotions.

JOHN

Sherlock, before we met, I was just a... A broken man. But you picked me up and put me back together. Nobody else could. You cured my limp, you healed my heart and soul. You brought me back to life. And I am all yours, Sherlock and I promise to love, cherish and protect you until my last breath. I love you.

VICAR

Thank you. John Hamish Watson, do you take, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, to be your lawfully wedded husband?

John looks momentarily confused at the mention of Sherlock's full name, but the grin doesn't disappear from his face.

JOHN

I do.

VICAR

And do you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take John Hamish Watson, to be your lawfully wedded husband?

SHERLOCK

I do.

VICAR

Thank you. Bring the rings, please.

Vicar looks around.

VICAR (CONT'D)

(sotto)

Where is the ring bearer?

SHERLOCK

Oh, right, sorry.

(he calls over his shoulder)

Bonnie.

From behind Lestrade, Bonnie emerges, wearing a bow tie and carrying a box in her mouth. She walks up to Sherlock, sits.

SHERLOCK

Good girl.

Sherlock bends down to take the box, opens it, picks one of the rings which he then proceeds to put on John's finger.

John picks the other ring, puts it on Sherlock's finger.

VICAR

Ah, splendid. Sherlock and John, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.

John grabs Sherlock, dips him, and only then, finally, kisses him. The guests begin to cheer.

CUT TO:

**INT. RECEPTION - DAY**

John and Sherlock cutting the cake; feeding each other the wedding cake.

CUT TO:

**INT. RECEPTION - DAY**

John and Sherlock taking wedding photos.

CUT TO:

**INT. RECEPTION - DAY**

John and Sherlock toasting and sharing a kiss while people clap.

CUT TO:

**INT. RECEPTION - EVENING**

John and Sherlock's first dance. Slowly swaying to the music - a single violin, surrounded by their friends and family.

John is leaning against Sherlock's chest.

JOHN

William Sherlock Scott Holmes.

SHERLOCK

I did tell you. In my head anyway.

JOHN

(giggles)

I love each one of them.

Closer on John's face, he looks up at Sherlock.

JOHN (CONT'D)

The music - it's your piece isn't it? I've heard you, while you were composing.

SHERLOCK

I was never going to miss the opportunity.

JOHN

Did you give it a name?

A beat. Sherlock grins.

SHERLOCK

At last.

JOHN

God, I love you.

He kisses Sherlock, but once they pull back, once he opens his eyes, something distracts him, a person - lurking in the crowd - Nurse Ferguson. John's smile drops.

(They're keeping their voices down, throwing furtive glances at Nurse Ferguson, but continue dancing.)

JOHN (CONT'D)

Sherlock, what the hell is Jade Ferguson doing here? She wasn't invited.

SHERLOCK

Oh, trying to murder me, apparently. She's poisoned my drink.

JOHN

What?!

SHERLOCK

A belated revenge. For what I found in her phone. Compromising material, to put it mildly. Seems she's finally realised who'd informed the police about her illegal activities.

JOHN

What the - what are we going to do about it?

SHERLOCK

She's waiting for the poison to kick in. Unfortunately for her, I didn't take it. I suggest we keep on dancing.

On Nurse Ferguson, she scowls in their direction, turns on her heels, an attempt to escape through the back door.

JOHN

Sherlock, she's running away.

SHERLOCK

Or, we can chase an uninvited guest through the garden. Why not.

A beat. At once, they stop dancing and head toward the confused crowd of people, making their way through.

DISSOLVE TO:

**EXT. LONDON - NIGHT**

London night sky.

CUT TO:

**EXT. BAKER STREET - NIGHT**

A wide shot of John and Sherlock. They're walking leisurely, hand in hand, down the street. Wearing coats over their wedding suits.

Bonnie is trotting in front of them.

JOHN

Wasn't it a bit rude to leave everyone behind?

SHERLOCK

They'll be fine. The same cannot be said about Jade Ferguson.

JOHN

(chuckles)

You did have to take that photo, didn't you?

SHERLOCK

I promised I would. It was an attempted murder, after all.

They've reached the front door, John unlocks the door, lets Bonnie inside-

-but Sherlock hasn't moved yet. He stares at John, as if expecting something from him.

JOHN

What are we waiting for?

SHERLOCK

Are you not going to pick me up?

JOHN

Pick you up?

SHERLOCK

You have to pick me up and carry over the threshold. Bridal style. It's a tradition.

John grins, shakes his head in amusement. He grabs Sherlock, passes one hand underneath Sherlock's knees, the other under his back, lifts him up.

They exchange a look, smile at each other.

JOHN

Husband.

SHERLOCK

Husband.

Bursting into giggles.

Carrying Sherlock in his arms, John takes a step forward, and into the flat - kicks the door shut behind him.

Zooming in on the 221B on the door. Holding on for the last few moments...

FADE INTO BLACK.

END.


End file.
